Metro 2033: Desperado
by Iwillnevertell12345
Summary: New York City wasn't spared the devastation of nuclear fire. The remnants of its population struggle to survive. Warring states locked in a cold war vie for supremacy, turning the East River into a veritable iron curtain. Follow the story of Daniel, a veteran "Surface Stalker" trying to eke out the miserable life of a metro dweller. Will he find solace in this harsh world?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Changed the title to more accurately reflect the tone of the story and converted the first chapter into a prologue.**

Prologue: Judgment Day

The streets of Manhattan were as busy as ever. Cars sputtered and honked as they slowly crawled through traffic. People hustled by, apathetically going about their daily lives. Daniel sat in a chair and gnawed on a pizza crust while staring at the unfamiliar faces zipping by.

"Well, look who it is," someone said merrily.

Daniel lazily cocked his head and turned toward the voice.

"Missed ya at work today, pal."

"I asked you to cover for me, didn't I?" Daniel questioned.

"Have a little faith in ol' Ross! The foreman would have your ass if I hadn't," the all too familiar passer-by gloated.

Daniel thought to himself that Ross was the kind of guy you'd see in a biker flick. He was an underachiever with an air of confidence about him. He was wearing blue jeans and his favorite leather jacket. The jacket accentuated his large physique and broad shoulders. His clean-shaven face and short-cropped hair gave him a very professional look.

Daniel was much younger than Ross. Ross was a tall, strong guy. He towered over Daniel with his enormous stature. Daniel often made jokes that whenever Ross stood up straight he would "blot out the sun." Daniel was still strong enough to get his work done, but Ross just made him feel weak. Fresh out of high school, Daniel went looking for a job as quickly as possible. Ross, and manual labor, found him.

Daniel shoved the pizza crust back into his mouth and said, "I've been busy."

Ross glanced over at the young girl at a vending machine across the room. She was small and short with long, blonde hair. She wore a pink sun dress and matching sandals. She was almost like a doll. She stared intently into the glass, trying to decide what to take. A snide grin crept across Ross' face.

"Busy playing hooky, right?"

Daniel ripped a bit of the crust from the rest and placed it on his plate.

Daniel said, "It's her birthday today."

Having finally decided on and bought a drink, the young girl skipped toward Daniel's table.

"You never change," Ross teased, "If I didn't know better, I'd probably mistake you for a young father."

Daniel looked at the girl sleepily and said, "We're close-knit."

The girl looked up at Ross with a beaming smile.

"Uncle Ross!" she exclaimed.

"How's it going, Birthday Girl?"Ross asked with a smile, "How old is little Kasey now?"

"I'm ten!"

Ross chuckled. "We'll have you lifting sandbags in no time!"

"Are you a floor-man yet?"

"Hah! Still on with that, eh? Not yet, but I will be by the time you can work. Count on that!"

Ross let out another chuckle before turning to Daniel again.

"I'm heading out," he said, "so don't you dare miss work tomorrow!"

Daniel nodded. Ross strolled out of the pizzeria and disappeared into the crowd.

"We should get going too, Squirt," Daniel said and stood up from his seat.

As he started toward the door he noticed Kasey's face. She had puffed out her cheeks and crossed her arms.

"If you're gonna pout, I can leave you here."

Kasey didn't budge. Daniel looked at the clerk.

"Hey, buddy. How many pizza pies could you make with this squirt?"

Kasey squealed and clung to Daniel's arm. He laughed and walked out toward the subway station entrance with her.

In an electronics store nearby, Daniel could see the image of the local news station. Daniel recalled hearing that nuclear strikes had been called for. He read the text plastered across the screen. From what he could make out, the government was boasting to the nation that America was safe, due to its sophisticated missile-defense systems.

Before descending into the subway, Daniel's cellphone began to beep. He had gotten a text message from his mother. It read _We love you. Stay safe._ He didn't think much of it and headed into the subway. Daniel and Kasey sat on a bench and waited for the train to arrive.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Daniel asked Kasey.

"I want a waffle cone."

"You'll get fat, though."

"I will not!"

"Hmm… If you say so. Don't say I didn't warn ya."

The train rolled into the station and came to a halt before the pair. When the doors opened, a group of fully-armed soldiers stepped out and onto the boarding platform, then walked toward the subway exit. Daniel thought this was puzzling, but pushed it out of his mind.

"Probably some weird flash mob or something," he said to himself.

He boarded the train. Kasey sat in one of the seats lining the walls of the train. Daniel stood and held on to the bar overhead. The metal doors slammed shut and with a slight jerk the train started rolling. Kasey gleefully glanced about the train while Daniel stood and watched. He felt content to see his beloved sister smile. The lights flickered. Kasey looked at Daniel, confused. The lights went out. Almost as suddenly, with a grinding hiss, the train's brakes locked. Daniel stumbled down the aisle and nearly fell over. The wheels slid along the iron tracks, creating sparks that dimly lit the cabin of the train. Daniel frantically struggled to find his sister. Kasey called out to her brother in a panic, but he couldn't find her.

"Kasey!" Daniel shouted, "Where are you?!"

The train jerked Daniel around, causing him to lose his footing and fall over, before coming to a stop and leaving the train car silent in pitch black darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1: Lion's Den

Daniel found the darkness to be abnormally stuffy. He turned on the flashlight attached his helmet. He looked around the derelict train car. Rusty bars lined the walls and roof of the car, while decrepit suitcases, old newspapers, and shattered glass cluttered the floor. He held on to a hand bar and looked down at one of the seats. With a sudden crack, the rusty bar shattered and hit Daniel on the head.

Daniel grunted, more in anger than in pain, "Fuck!"

His low voice carried and reverberated weakly through the subway tunnel. He was answered by the faint sound of a rock falling to the ground in the darkness of the tunnel. Daniel stepped out of the train car and onto a splintering wooden board of the train tracks. With a weak crack, it shattered under his weight. He crept though the tunnel quietly. The whispering howl of the wind steadily flowed though tunnel.

Another flashlight suddenly beamed onto a wall ahead of him. Daniel quickly doused his light and dropped into a crouch. As he carefully moved closer to the source of the light, he heard what he thought sounded like a water faucet that someone had forgotten to turn off. He soon got close enough to see a man urinating over a guard-rail and muttering to himself.

"Sick of these damned caravan raids," the man swore belligerently, "Fuckin' Army keeps rippin' our assholes open and we keep getting left to bleed out." He zipped up his pants and stormed off down a maintenance corridor, still muttering to himself. "Wish I was still in the Square. I could go for a pie."

Daniel watched the man as he turned the corner and disappeared.

Daniel quietly whispered to himself, "I thought pie was an Atlantis thing."

He shook off the thought and followed the man down the hallway. Daniel stuck to the shadows, being careful not to unexpectedly bump into someone turning a corner. The tight corridors worried Daniel. If anyone were to happen by, he'd be a sitting duck.

He finally reached the heart of the station. It was a double line station with tracks on either side of the boarding platform. It was musty, it smelled of alcohol, mold, and urine. Its few light sources were dim and often flickered. Daniel's only thought was: _What a dive. _

He skillfully snuck his way past the large, angry men with loaded firearms that sat thinly spread about the station. There weren't many, but he was still vastly outnumbered. He came upon a poorly-built shack. It was built on top of the train tracks and wasn't very stable. He peered through a crack in one of the walls. Inside the dimly-lit shanty was a desk littered with papers, a single candle resting on a shelf, and a young woman curled up in one of the corners. Daniel noticed she was wearing clothing that looked pretty warm. They were dirty, but without a doubt, she was wealthy. Her hands and feet were bound with rope and she had a strip of thick cloth wrapped around her head that the bandits used to keep her gagged.

Daniel waited until he was sure no one was looking and snuck into the shack. The woman became alert upon seeing Daniel. She tried to crawl away from him, but already had her back to a wall. Daniel held his hands out in front of him in an attempt to show the woman he wasn't going to hurt her. She was frightened; Daniel could see that in her eyes. She would have tears streaming down her face if she weren't already dehydrated.

Daniel spoke softly, "Miyako?"

She looked at Daniel cautiously and slowly nodded. Daniel quickly scanned the cabin. He studied the walls and beams that made up the shabby support.

"Alright, I'm gonna get you outta here."

Daniel rest both of his hands on the shelf above Miyako and gently started pushing. The wood above them creaked and moaned. Gradually pushing harder, he made the whole shack rock back and forth subtly. With one swift motion, he pulled himself up and swung his body toward the wall, feet first. He broke right through it. The wall shattered open, sending chunks of rotting wood flying. The other wall creaked and opened up. The support beams caved-in on themselves as well. The whole shack tumbled to the ground, burying Daniel and Miyako in wood chips and dirt. The collapse sent a thin powder of wood and dust through the air. The thugs in the station looked on in confusion. Daniel rose from the ruined shack. He drew a weapon, his favorite pistol – a silenced .45 caliber handgun – and peered down the sight. He could see the faint glimmer of a lantern through the dust. He fired his gun. The lantern exploded, setting the table it was resting on and a wooden crate next to it ablaze.

"Christ!" one criminal shouted.

Others started shouting in confusion as well.

"What the hell was that?!"

Daniel used the confusion to make his escape. He pulled Miyako up, out of the rubble, and threw her over his shoulder. He sprinted from the wreckage for a nearby staircase.

Daniel could hear the bandits shouting behind him, "We got trouble! Get down here!"

Daniel quickly ducked to the side of the stairs into a shadow. Miyako squirmed in her uncomfortable position, so Daniel gripped her clothes tighter. Two more bandits rushed down the stairs into the station. As soon as they were past, Daniel quickly made his way up and away from the platform. He holstered his pistol and ran into a nearby bathroom. He set Miyako down on the ground. He pulled a knife from his belt and cut the rope around her hands and feet.

"I'll get the gag when we're clear," he whispered, "Climb into that vent and crawl through until it ends, then wait for me."

He pointed to a vent over a toilet stall. She nodded.

"Do not stop, no matter what you hear."

She nodded again slowly.

Daniel helped her into the vent and closed the grate behind her. Daniel slipped out of the bathroom and went back the way he came. The bandits were crowded around the ruins of the shack, grumbling amongst each other. Daniel moved to a wall opposite the staircase. He pulled a pipe with a string hanging out of one end from a pouch on his belt. He pulled his trusty automatic rifle from his back and let it dangle from the sling on his shoulder.

His assault rifle was a relic, but it had never failed him. It was older than he was. Its brothers and cousins had seen a hundred battles throughout the years. The unification and division of nations, jungles, deserts, weapons of mass destruction; these were all things his firearm knew. These were all things they had fought for and against.

He lit the fuse of his grenade with his lighter and tossed the pipe onto the tracks across from him a fair distance from the confused bandits. He ran along the wall to the other side and ducked off the platform and onto the tracks. He kept low and ran along the edge of the platform, careful to keep his head from peeking up into the light. The grenade exploded with an angry shriek. The deafening blast startled the already anxious bandits. One stumbled back and fell over. Others shouted expletives repeatedly.

"Go check it out!" one bandit ordered.

A couple of guards slowly made their way toward the explosion, guns ready and trigger-fingers itching. While they were preoccupied, Daniel took the opportunity to slink away. He hugged the wall of the boarding platform and hurried down the tracks. The tunnel was blocked. It had collapsed ages ago. Buried and just barely visible was an iron disc. It reminded Daniel of a man-hole cover. He slung his rifle under his arm to his back and tried to lift the cover. It was heavier than he had first anticipated. He braced himself and lifted the cover on the second try. The sound of metal and rock scraping against each other made much more noise than Daniel had hoped it would. However, no one in the station seemed to notice. Daniel climbed into the small maintenance shaft. Grasping the ladder tightly with one hand, he slid the cover back over the hole with the other.

Pebbles bounced off of his gasmask. He climbed down slowly. The walls were lit by an eerie green light from below. It was dim and it made Daniel feel uneasy. He reached the bottom, but didn't get off the ladder right away. He switched on his flashlight. He looked at the ground and down the tunnel before him. Glowing, green mushrooms sprouted from the piles of dirt and rubble. Weaving between the valley between these small hills was a stream of still water. Daniel let out a heavy sigh.

"They didn't tell me it was flooded," he said disappointedly.

He stepped off the ladder, being careful not to step in the water, and onto one of the small hills. He stepped on a mushroom. With a weak _crunch _the light emanating from it faded and died. Daniel hopped from hill to hill to avoid the water. He came to a dead end. Between him and the ladder out of the tunnel was a puddle of water. It was much smaller than Daniel felt it was, but it was too large to jump over.

Daniel grumbled to himself, "Out of the frying pan and into the fire."

The puddle was shallow. Daniel took a step back and readied himself. He took a deep breath in and slowly released it. He took another deep breath in. He broke into a sprint. His boot hit the ground and sent water through the air. Water droplets shimmered in the dim light. Daniel immediately felt weak. He kept running, even though he felt as if he were about to vomit. His body felt like it was burning, freezing, and melting all at once. The portable Geiger counter on his belt went crazy. It clicked wildly.

He reached the other end of the shallow lake. As soon as he was out of the water, his knees buckled and he hit the ground. He broke into a coughing fit. He gripped at his neck and squirmed on the ground. He tried to calm himself down. He rolled onto his back and took very rushed deep breaths. When he had regained most of his strength, he got back on his feet. He climbed the ladder out, happy to put the irradiated death-trap behind him. Daniel reached the top and was greeted by another tunnel stretching into abysmal darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 2: Boiler Room

The tunnel was chillingly familiar. It was empty, devoid of all life. Daniel could feel something. He felt on edge, almost like he was being suffocated. Most would think it was radiation sickness after what Daniel had just been through, but he knew they would be wrong. Daniel switched on his flashlight and looked around carefully. His light crawled along the wall, down to the floor, then up the tunnel until the spotlight simply disappeared into the darkness of tunnel. He drew his rifle and walked slowly to a nearby room, careful to keep his flashlight straight ahead of him. He reached a storage room. He scanned it slowly. Along the ceiling was a broken ventilation shaft. He continued slowly toward the break. There he found Miyako, huddled against a box and sobbing.

"Hey," Daniel called out quietly.

Miyako looked up and was blinded by the light. She held her hand out in front of her to shield her eyes. Daniel killed his flashlight and struck his lighter. The light made the little silver box shimmer. The flame danced in the darkness. He held it close to his face. He pulled his knife from its sheath on his belt and used it to cut the cloth wrapped around Miyako's head to keep her muzzled.

Daniel asked gently, "Are you alright?"

"It's hard to breathe and I feel light-headed," Miyako responded.

"Will you be able to walk?"

Miyako nodded.

"Who are you," Miyako asked.

Her voice was shaky. Daniel could tell she'd been through a lot.

As he slid his lighter back into his pocket, he simply answered, "They call me the Prophet."

"Prophet?"

Daniel flipped his flashlight back on and stood up.

"That's what they call me, but I'm nothing special."

"Then what are you?"

"I'm just a guy trying to make a living, like everyone else."

Daniel was overcome by the feeling of gloom. The darkness was filled with encroaching dread.

"We need to move," he said hurriedly, "We aren't safe here."

He took her hands in his and helped her stand. Miyako was puzzled. She strained to listen for something Daniel may have heard, but was answered with deafening silence.

"Stay right behind me and do not wander off, no matter what. Got it?"

Miyako nodded. She held onto Daniel's shoulder. They walked slowly out of the room and into the tunnel. He carefully looked around with his flashlight back and forth while they walked. Daniel tensely prowled through the dark, being sure to keep between the tracks. He couldn't let his light wander too far downward. Suddenly, the silhouette of a person appeared in his light. He stopped short. The shadow just stood there, as if watching Daniel and Miyako. Daniel slowly scanned around further. The first silhouette vanished, but another appeared in the light. As Daniel continued to look left and right, more silhouettes vanished and appeared in his light. Miyako gripped Daniel tightly. As the foreboding darkness continued to drown him, his breathing became much more strained.

"Is something there?" Miyako whispered.

Daniel could hear the fear in her voice.

"You could say that," Daniel said.

Miyako was puzzled.

"Tunnels like this one are different from the rest," Daniel explained further, "Dying in this tunnel does not offer reprieve from our world."

Miyako looked into the shadows with uneasy eyes.

"Spirits get trapped here, like a dog locked in a boiler room."

Daniel lowered his voice. He felt remorseful.

"These poor souls don't know they died, though. So, they reach out to anyone they can, searching for help. If they do grab you, they will pull you in with them. You will become one of them."

Miyako's uneasyness turned into concern.

Daniel tried to reassure her, "That's not to say they want to hurt you, and God still watches over us. He'll see us through."

Daniel put away his rifle and clasped his hands together. He bowed his head and began to chant.

"The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's , though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil. My cup runneth goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

As he prayed, Daniel lifted his head and walked forward. He repeated the prayer over and over as he and Miyako walked through the tunnel. Miyako watched the light and glanced around into the dark. The silhouettes dispersed and glided slowly away from them when they got close. Daniel could hear their whispers, but he couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. What he did catch was unsettling. He could hear their sorrow. They screamed in agony. They asked for help. They asked for forgiveness. They called out for anyone to hear them, with no one to answer. He could feel their regrets. He knew what they wanted, but he was in no position to make an offer. Their cries pierced his very soul. The screeching darkness and ghastly sobs haunted him. Even their stares burned his very skin. He started to sweat. Their wailing invaded his thoughts. Screams of agony bounced through his mind. Horrible roars of anger clawed at his ears. Each tremor of their incomprehensible dismay sent a shiver down his spine and caused him to flinch. Miyako grew worried. She could feel him trembling. Daniel did not stop praying, though he could hardly breathe. He moved forward. He felt as though he were being guided along. He took comfort in that feeling and pressed on. They rounded a curve and were greeted by a light. Miyako was overjoyed. She wanted to rush toward it, but Daniel's previous words echoed in her mind. She stayed close behind him. They slowly moved closer and closer to the light. Daniel never realized when it happened, but he began to feel the tightness in the air dissipate and he could breathe easily again. He could hear the wind howling through the tunnel and the gentle chatter of the mice. He continued praying, to be safe.

The duo reached the source of the light: a lantern hanging from a handcart. An old, ugly man was sitting on the cart whittling a carving out of a hunk of wood. Daniel failed to make out what the carving was supposed to be. He stopped praying and let out a sigh of relief.

"You got the girl?" the old man inquired.

His voice was like that of a dog growling. Miyako stepped into the light from behind Daniel. The old man set down the carving and sat up.

He put his hands on the iron hand-crank and said, "Hop on."

Daniel helped Miyako onto the cart and climbed on after her. They took their seats. The man began pushing the crank up and down and the cart began to move. It slowly started to gain speed. The headlights on the cart lit up the tunnel ahead. Miyako could see small, ugly critters shuffling about in the darkness and scurry into burrows when the cart passed by. They frightened her. Daniel took notice. Miyako buried her face in her knees to hide her fear.

"You've never been out of the station before this, have you," Daniel asked

She shook her head. Daniel slouched in his seat.

"Well, I hope you never have to leave it again," he whispered with a hint of sympathy in his voice.

The old man stopped cranking the cart and let it coast down the tracks.

"We're here," he grumbled.

The cart came to a giant metal door that sealed the tunnel. It bumped into the door and slowly rolled backward before coming to a complete stop.

"Hey, open up in there," the old man shouted.

Floodlights flashed on, lighting up the cart and blinding Daniel.

"Stick, is'at you," a voice from beyond the door asked, "You done wit'at job a'ready?"

"Never takes long with this one."

Stick pointed over his shoulder at Daniel with his thumb. The gate guard was surprised.

"No freakin' way," he stammered, "Is'at the Prophet?"

Daniel felt a bit embarrassed.

"I'll phone the Boss and let 'im know you're comin'."

Miyako was surprised the men who had just rescued her were so well known.

Miyako asked curiously, "Why do they call you 'Stick?'"

Stick simply muttered, "I drive."

Miyako didn't understand. Daniel tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention and pointed at the hand-crank.

"I think I get it," she said sheepishly.

The iron doors began to open. The locks clicked loudly as they released. The barring mechanism made a loud screech as it slid open. The giant door slowly swung open. Stick slowly pushed the crank up and down and let the cart gently glide past the gate. Before them was a wall made of wooden planks that blocked the tunnel. Beside them were a narrow hallway and a boarding platform. Once they were through, Stick let the cart stop and stepped onto the platform. The hermetic door swung closed. The sound of the seals locking was more painful to listen to than when they opened. Daniel hopped onto the platform and helped Miyako off the cart. Stick stopped to talk to one of the guards while Daniel brought Miyako down another corridor.

"That's the real Prophet?" Daniel overheard a guard say in disbelief, "I only heard stories about that guy!"

Miyako held onto Daniel's sleeve tightly. At the end of the hall were two older men. Daniel recognized one of them.

He was a natural leader with an air of confidence about him. He was wearing his favorite blue jeans and ragged leather jacket. The jacket accentuated his large physique and broad shoulders, even if it was torn up in small patches all over the sleeves. His messy hair had streaks of grey running through it and a heavy beard hugged his face, giving him a grizzly look.

"Miyako!" the unfamiliar man called.

Miyako's eyes filled with tears.

She called back, "Oto-san!"

She ran to him and jumped into his arms. Daniel couldn't understand most of what they were saying, but strained to interpret it as best he could.

"Die-joe-boo?"

Miyako buried her face into the man's embrace and nodded her head.

"Yoh-kah-tah!"

The two turned to look at Daniel.

The man bowed and said with tears in his eyes, "A-ree-gah-to-go-zai-mas-soo!"

Daniel still couldn't understand what he was saying and struggled to find something to say.

"My father says: 'Thank you very much'," Miyako said with a smile.

Daniel was surprised. She sounded confident, as if she were a whole other person now.

"If there's anything we can do for you, just tell us."

"Payment has already been received," Daniel explained.

Miyako and her father bowed one last time and disappeared through a double-door behind them.

"So, how'd it go, Danny-boy?" Daniel's old friend asked cheerfully.

"You might want to have your scouts do another sweep of the tunnels, Ross. My escape route was flooded."

"Oh! Sounds bad! You alright, at least?"

"Aside from radiation sickness and a case of the 'heebie-jeebies,' I'd say it went off without a hitch."

"Ah, so, it's a vodka night!"

Ross laughed heartily. His uplifting attitude always made Daniel feel at ease.

"Well, let's get you debriefed and paid."

Ross placed one hand on either door handle.

"Oh, and Dan," Ross said, "Welcome home."

Ross pushed the doors and they swung open. The sudden flash of light blinded Daniel.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 3: Welcome Home

Daniel's eyes adjusted to the bright lights. The station was bustling. People hurried by. Wooden stalls covered in goods lined up in rows. Old stores that hadn't been boarded up or caved in glimmered with inviting, colorful lights. Shop keepers shouted and waved their arms, trying to lure people to their stalls to buy their goods. Fruits, vegetables, vitamins, guns, ammunition, gas masks, air filters, auto parts, oil; anything Daniel could ever need was right here in the market. There was even a stall selling condoms and beer. One shop keeper tossed an apple to Ross. Ross turned and handed it to Daniel with a smile and shouted something. Daniel couldn't hear him over the crowd, but took the apple anyway. Ross led Daniel through the crowd. They passed by an ammo vendor apathetically trading different types of bullets with costumers. An arms-dealer jauntily conversed with a costumer about how reliable his guns were. A man sat against a wall, munching away on a granola bar.

They stopped at a local bar to get Daniel a drink. As they waited for the bartender to bring them their order, Daniel surveyed the room. Melancholy figures slouched over the bar, devoid of all hope. Others sang happily at their tables. Two men compared strength with arm-wrestling. Others enjoyed idle conversation. Daniel watched a waitress dressed in hardly anything – high-heels, jeans cut extremely short, and a black t-shirt tied at the waist – strut from table to table with drinks. Two men got into an argument. One lunged across their table and punched the other. They began to fight, battering each other and knocking over tables. They had to be broken up by two Peacemakers, the law enforcement of the station, who then proceeded to throw the drunken combatants out of the bar. After the commotion was through with, the bartender placed a large bottle of vodka on the counter. Daniel took the bottle and followed Ross out of the bar.

They came to the industrial platforms. Crates stacked atop one another towered over the pair. Men carried boxes back and forth. Hand carts periodically rolled in to unload cargo. Daniel and Ross passed by a make-shift ranch. A rooster crossed their path and arrogantly strolled in front of them. Ross swatted at the conceited cockerel with his foot. It clucked and fluttered its wings before making its way back to a pen with other chickens. Pigs locked in pens shuffled and squealed. A couple of kids poked and prodded one pig until an old man stormed out of his home and shouted at them. They scurried away giggling.

Daniel and Ross passed through the common area. The crowded underground hallway stretched wide. Musicians strummed away at guitars and banged on old paint-buckets. One man performed magic tricks for a group of children. A woman sat against a pillar and read a book aloud to her son. Daniel and Ross passed by the armory. Looking into a door-way as he passed by, Daniel saw a young man firing a gun at a target on the wall. He was a terrible shot. It probably didn't help that he was using a "PoS" either. They passed by two men strapping on heavy vests and other assorted equipment ranging from belts wrenches and hammers hanging from them to bandoliers littered with ammunition and explosives. They strolled right through a guard checkpoint, vaulting over the gate made from a collection of rusty fences. A civilian trying to get through became angry and shouted at the guard.

Ross led Daniel to a dingy office and closed the door behind them. A bookshelf repurposed as a liquor cabinet stood against the back wall of the room. The bottles gleamed in the dim candle light. Ross pulled two small glass cups and a bottle of whiskey from the shelf and sat behind his desk. Neat stacks of paper and books littered one end of the desk. He placed one glass on either end of his desk and gestured for Daniel to take a seat. Daniel set the bottle of vodka on the desk and sat in the chair across the desk from Ross.

He unhooked the buckle on his helmet and pulled it off. The gas mask attached to the helmet slid off along with it. He set them on the ground. He wiped his hands down his face. The short strings of hair clinging to his chin were damp with sweat and the moisture from his breath. Daniel preferred to shave as often as he could, but a decent razor was hard to come by. Ross twisted open the scotch and poured some into his glass. He set the bottle down on another table beside him between a typewriter and a desk lamp. Daniel decided to pour himself a drink as well. As Daniel opened his bottle, Ross began to reminisce.

"Boy, this takes me back," he sighed and sat back in his chair, "Last time we shared a drink, you broke my nose!"

Daniel took a sip of his drink.

Daniel asked, "Yeah, I remember a certain someone bragging about his younger days and saying he could take anyone in a fight. You were a real tough guy."

"Hey! If I remember correctly, I still knocked you out!"

"I don't remember that part."

They both looked at each other for a moment before sharing a laugh.

"Hey, you remember when we first found what was going on in the stadium?"

"Yeah, don't remind me."

"Oh, man! I couldn't believe it! New York was always a fucked up town, but Jesus!"

Daniel cleared his throat.

"Ah, my bad."

"Forget it. I'm just glad we got those kids out of there."

"Ha-yeah. times are rough, but eating other people? I feel like that's a bit extreme. Howler ribs are just as good as pork!"

"Whatever happened to Roy after that?"

"You mean Freckle-Face? I think he's on beat out in Residential."

Daniel leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. A fan slowly rotated in a circle.

"So, Danny-boy, give me the det's."

"Everything went according to plan. No problems, minor obstacles."

"You mean the flooded exit?"

"Yeah."

"Casualties?"

"Nil."

"Anything else?"

"I collapsed a shack. Nothing they can't just rebuild."

"Were you seen?"

"Not a chance."

"For once, I'm not going to have an angry mob boss banging on my door tomorrow, am I?"

Ross laughed aloud.

"Looks like I owe you that bonus, then."

Ross opened a safe under his desk and pulled out several clips of bullets; high-end, military-grade ammunition. The brass casing of the bullets sparkled like gold in the flickering light.

"Here you go, old friend," Ross said after presenting the bullets, "Fifteen five-point-five-six-by-forty-five military-grade rounds; ten for the job and five for the bonus; the only thing still worth more than garbage down here."

Daniel leaned over the desk, nearly pushing over his glass, and took the clip. He didn't need to count them. Ross was never the type of man to cheat someone. He dropped them into his pocket. He then re-sealed the bottle of vodka and placed it in a side pouch on his rucksack.

"I'll let you know if anything else comes up," Ross said as he closed his safe.

Daniel gave a quick and relaxed salute with his index and middle fingers and headed out the door. He passed back through the Commons. He stopped and leaned against a pillar to listen to a musician strumming a guitar. The guitar was tuned terribly, but it was still a beautiful, rustic melody. He took the clip of military-grade rounds out of his pocket, pulled two rounds off, and dropped them into the man's guitar case. The man gave Daniel a grateful smile.

"Thank you, sir," he said as he continued to play his guitar.

Daniel walked down a nearby hallway. Make-shift wooden doors closed off doorways to bathrooms and closets. Light shone through the cracks and Daniel could hear people moving or talking behind them. At the end of the hall was a boarding platform. A derelict train rested on the tracks. Daniel could see bunk beds through the train car windows. Some were even occupied. He followed the overhead signs that read "S" emblazoned in a grey circle. It was easy to see that some had been replaced with plywood and paint. Daniel reached another boarding platform. Several railbikes rested at the station. The railbikes looked like motorcycles with sidecar passenger seats to Daniel. However, they were more like motorized handcars than anything else. Four wheels gripped the tracks tightly. The handle bars were merely for control of the throttle and brakes, but could be used to turn the railbike manually in an emergency. A man sitting on one of the railbikes took notice of Daniel.

"Transport to Grand Station'll cost you two Tabby-killers," the driver said.

Daniel pulled two more bullets from his clip and placed them in the driver's hand. Daniel took his seat in the sidecar. The driver started the engine. It sputtered on and the scent of gasoline mingled with the already musty air. It wasn't a particularly long trip, but Daniel grew impatient. He was tired and wanted to sleep. He watched the guards and workers zip by as he passed them. It didn't help Daniel's mood when traffic was held up by a de-railed railbike. One of its wheels came loose from the tracks. Two old men sat by a campfire playing with cards and talking. Daniel listened to them talk.

"I remember long time ago there w's another war. Rattled the bones of the whole city," one droned on, "Struct'ral integrity and what-not got all shook up and they had to rebuild the whole subway!"

The other man scoffed in disbelief, "That wa'n't no war! It was terrorists, you old coot!"

"Then why'd they have the army block off all the exits all those years ago?"

"That's 'cause your memory's all flip-flopped, you ding-bat. Them blockin' the exits was 'cause of the war."

Further down the tunnel a guard shouted, "All clear! Send 'em through!"

The railbike rattled onward. Daniel soon reached another station platform.

"Welcome to Grand Central," the driver said apathetically, "Thank you for using Grand Square transportation. We hope to see you again."

Daniel could tell that the driver had repeated the same line a million times before. He stepped onto the platform.

"This city never changes," Daniel mumbled to himself as he walked away from the tracks.

Further down the track he watched a group of men use a crane to pull railbikes off the tracks and set them on the opposite set to head the other direction. The crane was made of thick, sturdy wooden beams and rope. Lifting and lowering was all done by a few muscular men. Daniel headed deeper into the station. He passed the mess hall. He looked up at a sign hanging from the ceiling. The words had become marred and illegible. The mess hall was always and had always been a crowded place. It had been a restaurant in the past. He pushed his way through the crowd. It was always tough, but his suit helped to encourage people to move aside and let him pass. His suit was composed of old Army fatigues that had been painted black. He had hard leather braces strapped to his forearms and shins, as well as a Kevlar vest on under his coat. His helmet was like those of the modern Army's, but it had been painted black as well. The straps of his gasmask embraced his helmet like tendrils. He headed down a flight of stairs and through another wide hallway. He passed by shanties and people squatting around lamps or lanterns. He stopped at a door in the wall, hidden between two of the makeshift houses. He grasped the handle tightly. He quickly jerked the knob up and twisted it. The door cracked open and Daniel stepped inside. Daniel closed the door to his home behind him. It was a tiny room, but it was one of the more spacious anyone outside of the wealthy neighborhood could find in the metro. His cot sat against the back wall two large steps from the door. His desk rested against another wall with only a radio and desk lamp on it. Daniel didn't know why he had the desk as he felt it just took up space. On the opposite wall hung a bulletin board with a map of the subway and assorted notes pinned to it. Underneath that was a bookshelf with various books, papers, and cups scattered about on the shelves. Daniel removed his backpack and set it on the floor next to his desk. He pulled a mug from the bookshelf and sat in the chair at his desk. It creaked and wobbled under his weight. He removed the half-empty bottle of vodka from his bag and placed it on the desk. He flipped on the lamp and the radio. A voice started blaring from the speakers.

"A-hoy, you salty scallywags," it said, "This is your one and only favorite: Captain Blackbeard, on your one and only favorite pirate radio broadcast. Why do they call me 'Blackbeard?' Well, hell-fire and a good singe will do that to ya."

Daniel poured himself a drink.

"I'm sailing the high sea and surfing the radiowaves, because there's no one left to stop me!"

Daniel swiftly gulped down his drink. He stood up and began unfastening the pieces of armor on his suit and placing them beside his desk.

"Speaking of waves, we've got a welcome change from our usual line-up of depressing Government declaration speeches, heart-breaking love songs, and head-rattling beats for something nice and smooth. But first, we've got a bit of news for all of you out there."

Daniel sat on his bed.

"My good man in the old crow's nest informs me of impending doom deep down south…"

Daniel stretched out on his bed and covered his eyes with his arm.

"Apparently, howlers have been acting mighty finicky lately. Sounds like something's got 'em spooked. My guess is a pack of tabbies making claims on their waters. Others have reported a strange, blue glow deep in the tunnels. Army says they've got it under control, but you stalkers better keep your eyes open…"

Daniel listened closely with intrigue. The story had piqued his interest.

"Anyway, getting this ship back on course: our latest score is teeming with all kinds of treasure."

"Every time…" Daniel scoffed quietly.

Blackbeard continued, "Here's a special treat for you out there from the Captain's secret chest. I dunno what an Ipanema is, but it sure sounds damned interesting."

The radio started playing a song. It was gentle and easy on the ears, unlike what is usually played. Daniel recognized the song. As he drifted to sleep, he tried to remember the name of the song. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Daniel kept thinking about it, while the song started to fade away. As it grew further and further away, Daniel only thought harder. It was on the tip of his tongue. The song finally faded until it was gone and Daniel drifted to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Past chapter 3, I have been given absolutely no feedback on my story. Feel free to offer suggestions or point out any mistakes I may have made. Advice is always appreciated.**

Chapter 4: De Oppresso Liber

Daniel opened his eyes. He sat up and rubbed them. His radio was silent. That could only mean someone had come by to drop off a message from Ross. That was usually the case. He stood up and walked to his desk. As he had suspected, there was a note from Ross taped to the lamp. It read: _We've got a problem_. Daniel slipped on his coat and headed out the door. As Daniel walked to the S-platform he noticed that more than a few of the lights were shut off. The mess hall was especially dim, but still as busy as always. Daniel watched as a group of men carrying toolboxes breezed through the crowd and shuffled down a flight of stairs. Daniel figured one of the generators had shut down again. He took a railbike to Square station and hurried to Ross' office. There was a guard standing by the door, leaning against the wall. His rifle gleamed as if it were freshly polished. His boots shone as well. He was wearing a uniform that used to be standard issue for U.S. soldiers. It was clean, which was increasingly rare this far north. Daniel stopped in front of him. The guard reached over and banged his fist against the door twice. The door swung open. The room was dark. Daniel stepped inside. He closed the door behind him. Ross lit his lantern and the room was flooded with light. There was another man in the room with them. He stood at attention behind Ross' desk. Daniel didn't recognize him, but he recognized the uniform.

"What's the Army doing here?" Daniel asked, a little annoyed, "We had an agreement."

"We had a treaty," the man said.

The clover-like symbol on his sleeve indicated he was an important man.

"A treaty that Colonel Caul believes has expired," he continued.

Ross stood up from his desk walked over to Daniel.

"I understand you might be a little upset, but I need you to listen to him," Ross pleaded.

Daniel crossed his arms and took a step back.

"Major Diaz," the soldier said and stood at attention.

Daniel questioned, "You're probably here to occupy our station and impose your law on us. Isn't that what you people do?"

"I'm not with the Fed's. The Colonel believes that nurturing the growth of these 'free stations' like yours is for the best. He believes it will allow the people to rebuild without restrictions before coming together as a new, stronger nation. I'm here to discuss terms for a renewal of our treaty."

"You consider yourself some sort of negotiator, then?"

"I prefer 'ambassador.'"

Daniel grew increasingly angry with the man.

"What do you want?"

"I would like cooperation."

Daniel suddenly flew into a rage. He slammed his fist down on Ross' desk. An empty liquor bottle tipped and fell over.

Daniel shouted, "Bullshit! If you assholes wanted to cooperate, you'd have started a fucking decade ago!"

Ross tried to snap Daniel out of his anger.

"Danny, buddy, you gotta calm down," Ross said softly, "I ran with the Army once, remember? They aren't like what you know them to be anymore."

"Don't they call you 'the Prophet'?" Diaz asked calmly, "Doesn't your scripture say to 'turn the other cheek' and 'love your enemy?'"

Daniel retorted, "God will forgive me for my sins, but I will not forgive you for yours."

Ross gently pushed Daniel and sat him down in the chair in front of his desk.

"Danny, I need you to relax," Ross said sternly, "I get that you and the Army ain't friends, but that's irrelevant right now."

"Irrelevant?" Daniel yelled, "You're saying my fucking sister was irrelevant?!"

Ross, a little irritated he was being shouted at, raised his voice and said, "I'm saying your sister is dead. She died years ago, and to make sure the rest of the people in Grand Square don't die too, I need you on the same page here!"

Daniel stood up, sending the chair sliding back, and continued shouting at Ross.

"I don't give a damn! You don't know what I lost!"

Ross started shouting back, "I had family too! The difference here is that I was able to get my head out of my ass and look at the big picture!"

"Big picture? Who the fuck are you, Michelangelo?"

"Living people make for a whole hell of a lot better paintings than dead ones, and I'm plenty sure all those people out there would agree with me!"

"Fuck them, and fuck you!"

Daniel stared Ross straight in the eyes. Ross glared back. Daniel clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He was fuming. He couldn't think straight. He knew Ross didn't mean to insult him, but painful memories and his words swirled through his mind which made him more and more angry. Ross stood upright, almost stoically. His fists were balled up as well, but he kept his arms at his sides.

Ross said quietly, yet very sternly, "Those people out there are alive. If you want to live on the edge and get yourself killed, that's one thing. I understand."

Ross slowly lifted his arm and pointed toward the door.

"But they don't have that choice. They can't choose to fight and die. They have to depend on people like us to protect them. We can't all be heroes. They need you. You're the only one I can trust with this."

Daniel clearly understood what Ross was saying, but he didn't want to accept it. He didn't want to work with the Army.

"Blessed are the peacemakers," Ross said.

Daniel's resolve finally broke.

"Fuck…" Daniel growled. As he jerked back and leaned on his arm against the wall he shouted, "Fuck!"

Ross turned to Diaz and said, "Fill him in."

Ross sat down in his chair behind his desk.

"As you already know, Army Rangers have been trying to bring order to the citizens of post-disaster Manhattan, New York," Diaz explained, "To do so, we have been spreading out and expanding from City Hall Station, establishing outposts in places ranging from Penn Station and Lexington Station, all the way to Union Square Station. Grand Square has been very helpful in allowing travel through your station with little resistance. However, others have not been as accommodating…"

Diaz leaned over Ross' desk.

"Recently, we've been working to secure Central Park and the surrounding stations. En route to Central Park North station, a train codenamed 'Boxcar One' was ambushed and captured by bandits. They were heavily armed and astoundingly organized. The acting CO deemed a retreat necessary."

"So, what?" Daniel asked, still trying to calm himself down, "You want me to take over a train alone?"

"Negative. We have a team organized."

"Then why do you need me?"

"Several reasons: you know the area, we wish to improve relations with your station, and we have information on the recent attack on your station that you need."

"What attack?"

Ross swiftly answered, "Someone tried to sabotage one of our generators."

Daniel remembered his trip to the office and the darkened mess hall.

Diaz continued, "We have information that suggests another attack will be launched fairly soon. If you want to have any chance of stopping it, this information could possibly guarantee success."

Ross tried reasoning with Daniel further, "Those generators are our livelihood. If they go out, people could freeze to death and we'd have to deal with our food stores spoiling. Not to mention our tunnel gates are powered by those generators too, so defending from a raid would be impossible."

Daniel started to realize the severity of the situation.

"You think bandits could organize something like this?" Daniel asked.

"Not exactly," Diaz said, "We believe they have some sort of backing from the Federal Government."

Ross questioned, "You guys are still fighting them, huh?"

"They wish to preserve America the way it was before The War. The Colonel believes that a change is necessary; a change that can only be accomplished through a new order."

"Yeah, and you don't care who you trample along the way," Daniel grumbled.

Diaz ignored his comment and continued further, "We need you and this team to keep this quiet. We need intel above all else. The train is important, but we need to know what they're trying to do by assaulting us."

Ross inquired further, "How do you know it's the Fed's?"

Diaz answered, "We captured one. When subjected to intense interrogation, any typical bandit would have cracked immediately, but this man…"

"So, we're dealing with Federal bandits that also happen to be battle-hardened super-soldiers; is that right?" Daniel asked snidely, "And how did you people even get a train running anyway?"

Diaz scowled and said, "Ingenuity and elbow-grease."

Daniel laughed mirthlessly under his breath. "At least you're witty," Daniel grumbled.

Diaz took a two-way radio from his back pocket and spoke into it, "Send them in."

Daniel moved away from the door. He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and lowered his head to make himself seem as uninviting as possible. Shortly afterward, the door swung open and two men in military uniforms stepped into the office. The door was closed behind them. They stood at attention.

"At ease, gentlemen," Diaz ordered, "Take a seat."

The soldiers each found themselves a chair and sat in front of Ross' desk.

"Meet the Prophet," Diaz said sarcastically, "He's a big ball of sunshine and your new best friend."

Daniel ignored him.

Diaz began the briefing, "I'm sure you've already been told the details, so I'll keep it short. You three are going to be gathering intelligence on the capability of the bandits that commandeered Boxcar One and, if possible, recapturing it."

Diaz gestured to the board behind him. Two maps were pinned to it. One was a map of the city; the other was a map of the subway. Pinned to each map were a handful of thumbtacks. Diaz pointed to one of the pins on the subway map.

"According to our scouts, Boxcar One is currently holding position in an abandoned station somewhere between79th and Cathedral Parkway. From what I hear, these bandits have every station between those two locked down."

Ross added, "That could be why we haven't heard from anyone up north recently."

Diaz pointed to a pin further down on the map with "72" written next to it.

"72nd street station will be the staging area for this operation. You three will head through the tunnel until you meet up with Sergeant Raven at 72nd. He will lead you to the objective. From then on, you are on your own. With our current equipment, we can't maintain radio communication either."

Diaz pointed to a pin on the city map. It was right in the middle of a green rectangle and labeled "Central Park."

"We've also gotten reports of increased hawk activity on the surface in that area. Something has them agitated, so retreat via surface is out of the question."

Diaz pointed to another pin on the subway map.

"With that said, if you can't retrieve Boxcar One and return it to 72nd Station, You might be able to regroup with Sergeant Oxford and his team. They were ordered to stand by in Central Park North Station until we could make contact with them."

Diaz turned back to the soldiers.

"If no one has any questions, this briefing is concluded. Meet up on the Red Line, boots up in two hours. You are dismissed."

The soldiers stood up and walked out of the office. Diaz soon followed behind them. Ross relaxed in his chair and let out a heavy sigh.

"You sure you'll be able to do this?" he asked Daniel with a hint of concern.

Daniel simply nodded.

Ross continued, "You know, a few years ago, you'd have taken a swing at me."

Daniel replied, "I got my head out of my ass. Now I just need to look for the bigger picture."

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall he was leaning against and started toward the door.

"Good luck, old friend," Ross added as Daniel walked out of the office.

Daniel walked back to his home. He didn't bother taking a railbike to Grand Station. He strolled down the tunnel, keeping to the wall to stay out of the way of the taxis that rattled by. He passed through the mess hall, which was still darkened. It was difficult to see, but the crowd was thin. Daniel felt as though it was easier to get home than it normally was. Daniel arrived at his home and stepped inside. After closing the door behind him, he switched on the radio and sat at his desk. A familiar voice crackled through the room.

His voice blaring through the speakers, mid-sentence the voice said, "-ood old first mate here can man the helm for a bit, because Blackbeard's goin' below deck."

Daniel reached for his bag to check his equipment.

"We've been hearin' reports about a strange new mutant in the west. Seems there's a storm brewin'. Stalkers report a massive, spooky, grey beast resting atop the Hudson…"

Daniel found himself distracted and tried to focus on his bag.

"So far, they say, all it's been doing is sleeping. Best to leave the kraken alone, I say. Save those cannonballs for the Fed's, am I right? Heheh…"

Daniel set his pack on the ground and proceeded to check his rifle. He inspected the sight. He removed the magazine and set it on the table.

"Before I go, I've got one more little doubloon to share with you all. The crew and I found some fine little gems in our last excursion abroad. Our last score netted us records from an age of making love or war or somethin'. It's all mumbo-jumbo to me, but I do love some old-time rock 'n' roll!"

Daniel placed his rifle on the desk and drew his pistol to inspect it as well.

"That's all for now, you scallywags. I'm shoving off! We've got plenty a merry tune lined up, though, so sing along if you know the words. I'm sailing the radioactive radio waves, all day, every day, because shore leave is for harbor hogs! This is Cap'n Blackbeard on your one and only favorite pirate radio station! Why am I your favorite? Well, I'm the only scurvy-infested sea-dog on the air! Who else're you gonna listen to? Heheh…"

Daniel continued to inspect his weapon in the dim light as the radio began humming a song.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Made an effort to demolish the wall of text in this chapter to make it a bit easier to read and tackled a few formatting mistakes.**

Chapter 5: Red Line

Daniel stood quietly against a wall and listened to a man strum away on his guitar. It whispered quiet notes with every strike. It wasn't like the guitars he'd usually see in the station. He recalled something someone had said to him when he was in Penn Station.

"This is my 'axe,'" he remembered the man shouting proudly, "My pride, my joy, and my soul!"

Daniel remembered them from before the war. Guitars wired to speakers that screeched and growled with every flick of the strings. Every pluck had its own unique roar. Daniel admired the instrument and the skill to be able to use it. He wished he could listen to one actually connected to a speaker like he had used to. Daniel's attention began to wander, eventually roosting on the thought of the Red Line. It once bustled with handcarts and railbuggies, but has recently been almost deserted. The sound of commerce has departed, with only the gentle echo of the rest of the station left in its place. Daniel thought to himself that Ross may have been right about the bandits blocking travel. Diaz and the two soldiers from earlier arrived and stood next to the tracks. The soldiers were wearing their full uniforms and were fully equipped with their small submachine guns. They looked like snub-nosed assault rifles with a thin bar where the stock should be. The magazines looked like a banana cut into a box Daniel thought to himself how bright their uniforms were. He wasn't sure the shadows were what these boys were accustomed to. Diaz spoke into a radio he was holding before slipping it into his back pocket. Shortly after, a motorized railcart, conducted by a mangy-looking pig of a man, slowly inched into the station and stopped in front of the soldiers. Daniel felt that was his cue to join them. He walked past the guitarist, dropping a couple of MGR into the baseball cap on the ground and headed toward the cart.

Diaz noticed Daniel walking toward them and said, "Looks like everyone's here. Good luck, gentlemen."

Diaz walked into the station and disappeared from sight. The two soldiers stepped onto the cart. Daniel followed and took his seat. When the other soldiers had taken their seat, the driver pushed down a lever. The railcart quickly gained speed and headed north. Daniel crossed his arms and slouched in his seat. He hoped to get some sleep before meeting with the contact. He recognized the driver. Stick's scowl was unmistakable, and his familiar musty odor seeped through Daniel's mask. Daniel contemplated using an air-filter, but decided not to waste it.

"Hey man, what's your name?" one soldier asked the other.

The other responded, "Corporal Gene. You?"

"Robins."

Robins and Gene shook hands. Their conversation kept Daniel awake. He listened and thought about what he considered the beginning of a close friendship.

"What about you?" Robins turned to Daniel and asked.

Daniel didn't answer. The light of the lamp on the cart created a glare on Daniel's gas mask. He was confident that neither Robins nor Gene could see through it. They began to whisper.

Robins asked Gene, "Think he's asleep?"

"Nah, man," Gene answered, "He's probably praying."

Robins looked confused.

"Praying?"

"Yeah, didn't you hear the Major? That's the Prophet."

"No shit?"

"No shit! They say he ain't afraid of death; I don't think he's even human. That god of his has to be magic or something!"

"There's no such thing. He's asleep, I'm telling you!"

Daniel decided to interrupt their conversation.

Daniel sneered, "You two'll leave the thinking to your betters, if you know what's good for you."

The looks on their faces made Daniel think they weren't sure whether to be confused or angry. Gene and Robins fell silent. Daniel thought this was his chance to finally get some sleep. After a few moments, one of the soldiers carried on their conversation.

"So, when did you make Corporal?" Robins asked Gene.

Daniel grew a bit annoyed, but didn't say anything.

"Few weeks ago," Gene responded, "I kept my head down and did what I was told. It was either the service or the smithy. What about you?"

"When I volunteered for this assignment."

"You volunteered?"

"My brother was in Sergeant Oxford's unit. I'm hoping he's still alive."

Gene lowered his voice to a whisper, "I hope the same can be said for us after this…"

He motioned toward Daniel. Daniel looked up at them. They took notice and quickly moved away from each other. By the look on their faces, Daniel could tell they were more afraid of him than whatever group of bandits they were told about. The cart was silent for the rest of the ride, save for the gentle and steady clacking of the wheels on the tracks. Even still, Daniel couldn't get to sleep the whole way. The cart came to a stop at an abandoned boarding platform. Crumbs and blocks of concrete littered the floor in small piles. An old, shell of a train occupied a portion of the tracks across the platform. Most of the train had been stripped for parts, but what couldn't be taken remained as a rest stop for the station. Daniel could see what looked like the counter of a bar on one of the cars. A single fluorescent light hung from the ceiling and illuminated the bottom few steps of the staircase leading out of the station. Another man wearing an Army uniform stepped out of the shadows and into the light.

"Front and center, boys," the man ordered.

Robins and Gene quickly stood up, rushed off the cart, and stood at attention in front of the man.

"Name and rank," the man demanded.

Robins spoke quickly, "Corporal Robins, sir!"

Gene spoke just as quickly, "Corporal Gene, sir!"

They both saluted the man. Daniel looked at the emblem on the man's arm. He had the symbol for the rank of sergeant sewn onto his sleeve just under his shoulder.

"At ease, boys," the sergeant said.

Daniel stood up and stepped off the cart. The engine sputtered. The cart began rolling into the darkness back the way they had come from.

"No goin' back now…" Daniel muttered to himself.

"Hey," the sergeant called out, "Fall in line, soldier. Gimme your name and rank."

"I don't take orders from you," Daniel said harshly.

The sergeant walked up to Daniel. His eyes were just about level with Daniel's.

"Well, pardon me, Cupcake," the sergeant said.

His voice was solid. It didn't give off a hint of sarcasm, but his choice of words made it obvious that he was patronizing Daniel.

"Sergeant Raven," the sergeant said, his tone unchanged, "Who exactly are you, then?"

Daniel recalled the mission briefing. This was his contact.

"They call me the Prophet," Daniel answered.

Raven seemed surprised at first, but soon relaxed a little.

"It's about time they sent me someone with some experience," Raven said, "All they've sent me the last few times were kids."

Raven looked over his shoulder at the two rookies. Robins and Gene were playing "rock-paper-scissors." The winner would punch the loser in the arm.

"Well… One of three is good enough, I guess," Raven said disappointedly.

He quickly changed the subject.

"I don't know what the Major told you, but the situation has changed," Raven explained, "The bandits have modified Boxcar One a bit. They've completely removed the passenger car and ripped a box-car open, likely for the scrap metal. So, now there are only 9 cars, with only the other box-car left on. They've also started loading crates onto the flat cars."

"What does that mean for us?" Daniel asked.

"It means they plan to move soon."

Raven started walking toward the tracks.

"Saddle up, boys," Raven called out.

As he walked away he put his helmet and mask on. The mask was attached similarly to how Daniel's was to his helmet. Normally, such fashion is limited to stalkers or hunters since they frequented the surface. Daniel wasn't sure what to think of Sergeant Raven. He had a strong look in his eyes, and seemed reliable. If he weren't an Army soldier, Daniel may have been able to trust him. Daniel followed Raven off the platform and onto the tracks. They made their way down the tunnel and into the darkness. Robins switched on a flashlight on his helmet. Raven immediately placed his hand over it.

"Your eyes will adjust," Raven said sternly.

Robins pressed the switch on the flashlight again and turned it off. They walked a short way before Daniel could hear a familiar voice echoing through the tunnel. Raven stopped and pulled his gun off his thigh. Daniel noticed his sub-machine gun was shorter than the other soldiers'. It had no stock and a shorter barrel with a small silencer on the end. He also had an Army assault rifle on his back. Daniel had heard them called "Desert Battle Rifles" before. He assumed it was a term from before the bombs. Daniel had never seen a soldier carry anything other than a pistol with their rifles. He pushed the thought aside when Raven began making hand gestures. He made a fist, extended his arm to his side slightly, flattened his hand, and slowly lowered it before bringing it back to his gun and lowering his body into a crouch. The other two soldiers immediately pulled their SMGs from their backs and lowered into a crouch. Daniel decided to follow suit and crouched down. Raven made another hand gesture. This time, simply extending one finger upward and spinning his arm, making a small circle in the air. He quickly moved against a wall. The two young soldiers followed close behind. Daniel stuck with them and kept low. It brought back memories of his time stalking the surface and hiding from the hawks that circled overhead. The voice grew louder the further they went before suddenly stopping. It was replaced by the subtle beat of a song. Raven ducked into a small indent in the wall and pressed himself against one side. It was just big enough to fit the four of them. Raven glared at a bandit standing further down the tunnel. His eyes were like that of an owl that has just spotted a mouse crawling out of a hole. Daniel could hear voices coming from behind a door underneath a lantern just ahead of the bandit. Raven attempted to make a move on the bandit, but Daniel grabbed onto his tool belt and stopped him. Raven looked back at Daniel. Daniel pointed in the direction of the door. It suddenly swung open and a man stepped out of the room. He walked up to the other bandit and handed him a box of cigarettes. The first bandit headed into the room. The other bandit began to walk toward the squad. Raven waited until the bandit wandered within reach before grabbing him and slicing open his neck with a knife. He dropped the body aside and continued to move through the tunnel. The other two soldiers followed close behind as Daniel lagged a bit further back and brought up the rear. Raven weaved through the cracks of shade that splintered between different lanterns and candles on their path. They dodged the few guards dotted about the tunnel and kept out of sight, keeping as quiet as mice. They crept through the tunnel and finally reached the train. Daniel hadn't seen anything like it before. The cars were like platforms connected by huge clamps. Crates and boxes made of wood and iron littered the cars. Daniel could see the vandalized box-car. The jagged remains of the metal previously used to cover it were all that remained.

The squad climbed the last car and hid behind a few crates. Daniel kneeled next to Raven. There were two bandits on the next car, both facing toward the front. Raven patted Daniel on the shoulder and pointed at the closer one. Daniel slowly slinked up behind the bandit and wrapped an arm around his neck. He choked the bandit. The bandit struggled to breathe. Short, pained gasps escaped, but his flailing gradually grew weaker. Raven zipped by without a sound. He prowled up behind the other bandit before firing a single shot from his suppressed machine gun into the bandit's head. Raven grabbed the bandit's fresh corpse and slowly lowered it to the floor without a sound. As the other soldiers passed by him, Daniel throttled the bandit until he had passed out and gently dropped him on the floor. Raven continued forward a short way into the light of a candle. A bandit standing on the box-car noticed him. He peered through the scope on his rifle and lined up a shot on Raven. The rifle shot sounded like an explosion ringing through the tunnel. It also acted as an alarm. Every bandit in the tunnel was now alert. The bullet passed right through Raven's abdomen and coated the crate next to him in blood. He stumbled and fell against the crate beside him.

Raven started shouting orders with a pained roar, "We're made! Go loud!"

The bandit looked behind him and started waving his arm at something. The other bandits in the tunnel started shouting and dashing toward the train. They fired their weapons at the crate that Daniel was hiding behind. Robins rushed to Raven and dragged him behind a box while Gene peppered the sharpshooter. The bandit fell off the box-car and onto the tracks.

"Cover the rear!" Raven yelled.

Daniel turned around and started firing at the bandits in the tunnel. They ducked behind crates, stairs, and wooden support beams in the tunnel. Daniel kept them from advancing on the train. With a sudden jerk, the train began to roll forward. The bandits had started it. Robins and Gene moved forward to get to the lead car. Another bandit jumped out from behind a crate and grabbed Robins. He had a knife. He and Robins struggled to stab one another with the knife. Gene hesitated to fire out of fear of shooting his partner. Whenever the bandit and Robins were separated long enough for Gene to line up a shot, the bandit would quickly spin around behind Robins. The bandit finally stabbed Robins twice in the chest. It sunk through his vest and into his heart on the first stab, then into his lung with the second. Robins fell over and tripped the bandit. He fell onto his back while Robins' corpse fell out of the way. Gene unloaded several rounds into the bandit, but the bandit had one more trick. At that same moment, he pointed the knife at Gene and pressed a button on the hilt of the blade. It sprung forward and dug itself into Gene's neck. Gene fell to his knees and grasped at the knife blade as the life quickly escaped his body before falling over to drown in his own blood. The train picked up speed. Daniel checked on Raven. His wound looked severe. He was holding his hand against it.

"Stop the train," Raven ordered weakly.

Daniel hurried toward the front of the train. He stepped over the bodies of his comrades and sprinted to the box-car. He skipped over the jagged edges of the vandalized box-car with graceful fluidity. He jumped and scrambled up the remaining box-car. He crawled along the top on his hands and knees. The concrete of the tunnel sped past him. He thought about standing up, but decided not to out of fear of scraping the ceiling. He finally reached the other end of the car and dropped onto the lead car. There was no rear wall to the car. It had two walls on the sides and one long wall in front. Against the front wall was a long console covered in levers and buttons. A small door hung open, revealing a flame that rolled along the floor like an animal in a cage. Beside the door was a box filled with wood, paper, and coal. One last bandit was conducting the train. He hadn't seemed to notice Daniel yet. Daniel used this opportunity to surprise the bandit and slammed his head against the control console. The bandit threw his elbow into Daniel's face and bashed it against his nose. Daniel reeled back and the bandit grabbed his collar. Daniel wedged one arm between the bandit's and pushed up on his chin. The bandit pulled Daniel around and shoved him against a wall of the car. The metal moaned and wobbled. Daniel kicked the bandit in the knee once. He placed his boot against the bandit's stomach and pushed him away. The bandits screeched and lunged at Daniel again. Daniel grabbed hold of the bandit and they both tumbled backward. When they stopped rolling, the bandit had Daniel pinned to the floor. The bandit struggled to get his hands around Daniel's neck. Daniel's upper body dangled just off the edge of the car. The menacing howl of the wind rushing by along the ground and the wheels rolling along the tracks startled Daniel. The rush of fear-filled adrenaline gave him a sudden burst of strength. Daniel grabbed the bandit's coat collar and pulled down. He smashed his head against the bandit's. While he was stunned Daniel, pushed him back. Daniel and the bandit both stood and glared at each other. The bandit lunged at Daniel again. Daniel sidestepped his attacker. The bandit lost his footing and flipped over the rail. The bandit tumbled onto the track and bounced. He continued to roll and hit the wall, as limp as a ragdoll, as the train left him to his fate. Daniel didn't dare to look.

Daniel hurried to the control console. He frantically searched the console for anything that would stop the train. He pressed buttons,, he flipped every switch he could find, he pulled and pushed different handles, and he pulled on a chain that sounded the blow-horn. The blaring sound made Daniel cringe with pain. He finally grabbed a lever next to the console, squeezed the handle, and yanked it as hard as he could. The wheels squealed as they scraped against the metal tracks. Daniel was thrown forward. He clung to the console and kept himself from falling down. The train came to a complete stop. Still out of breath, Daniel jumped off the lead car. He stumbled down the tracks around the box-car. He felt exhausted as the adrenaline surge slowly dwindled. He climbed back onto the train and walked back to where Raven was. When he reached the rear car, he discovered that Raven was gone. He had bled out. His body was leaning against the box Daniel had left him behind, clutching an empty Medikit container. The tiny syringes were littered around his legs. Daniel removed his helmet and mask and placed them on the ground beside him. He kneeled beside the corpse and placed his hand on Raven's shoulder. Raven's body slinked to the side and fell over.

"Go with God," Daniel whispered remorsefully.

Daniel heard someone speak behind him.

"Looks like you've been through a lot," they said.

Daniel immediately brandished his rifle and pointed it in the direction he heard the voice. Twisting around on his knee so suddenly hurt a bit, but his grit his teeth and ignored it. Before him stood a man, almost like a shade. His clothes were black as night. He held a pistol much like Daniel's in his hand. He wore a gasmask unlike any Daniel had seen before. It was similar to the masks most used in the metro, and yet it was so vastly different. Most people wore recovered Army gasmasks that have been used since before the war. The lens was similar to Daniel's, but it was split into two eyes that were tinted jet black, and it had a hose that coiled around his neck to his back. Daniel would never had seen him if he weren't standing in the light of an overturned lantern.

"Go ahead," he said calmly, "Shoot me."

Daniel hesitated. The man lifted his arm and pointed his pistol at Daniel.

"If you don't kill me, I may just kill you."

Daniel replied, "If you had intended to kill me, you'd have done it by now."

The man didn't seem to move. He was as cold as the gun he held in his hand. Daniel felt a chill from just looking at him. With a deafening bang, the man's gun fired. The bullet passed right over Daniel's shoulder. He could almost see it zip by his head. The sudden noise startled Daniel. He heard what he thought was a bag of ammunition falling and an agonized scream come from behind him. Daniel didn't take his eyes off the ghostly figure in front of him.

"As cold as a rock, just like the stories say," the man said before lowering his weapon.

Daniel wasn't sure if the man was taunting him or praising him. The man picked up the lantern, walked past Daniel and stood over a bandit that was squirming in pain toward one of the iron crates. Daniel kept the sights of his rifle glued to the man's silhouette while he passed. As he strolled by, Daniel caught a glimpse of a patch on his right shoulder. It looked to Daniel like a small, all-black tabby.

"Would you like to know what this guy was reaching for?" the man asked Daniel.

Daniel lowered his rifle and stood up. He looked on the ground. The bandit he had knocked out was on the floor and grunting with pain. The man opened the crate. Inside were Kalash assault rifles piled on top of one another.

"He was going to kill you," the man stated, "So, why don't you kill him first?"

The man took an AK from the box and dropped it on the ground in front of the bandit. The bandit crawled toward the rifle. Daniel raised his and pointed it at him. The bandit inched closer to the gun. Daniel couldn't pull the trigger. He didn't want to take the bandit's life. He detested killing other people. The bandit squirmed and struggled to reach the gun. Daniel continuously tried to pull the trigger, but his resolve shattered along with every bit of strength built up. The bandit finally reached the rifle. Daniel hesitated. The bandit wrapped his hand around the stock of the gun. The man stomped on the bandit's arm. He screamed out in pain. His suffering was finally eased with a bullet through the top of his head.

"While your reluctance to take another man's life is admirable, it makes your own death inevitable," The man said coldly.

Daniel could not detect any kind of emotion in his voice.

"There's a particular saying that my friends and I live by," he continued, "'Kill to live.'"

The man crouched by the bandit's body and began to search him. Daniel lowered his rifle and let out a sigh of relief. The man began sifting through the bandit's coat and pulling ammunition and filters off of him.

"I don't believe in murder," Daniel told the man.

"Is it murder if you are defending yourself?" he asked in return, "Doesn't Jesus say he came to bring a sword or something?"

"That's not what he meant by that…"

"Whatever; it's irrelevant. 'An eye for an eye' is all you really need in this world now. If you can't protect yourself, you won't be able to protect anyone else."

Daniel looked down at Raven's corpse. Daniel assumed he was talking about the squad of soldiers. The man stood up and nudged the dead bandit with his foot.

"Do you know who these men are?" he asked Daniel.

Daniel asked in return, "Bandits?"

"Take a closer look," the man answered.

He strolled to the other corpses and began looting them. Daniel switched on his flashlight. He studied the body of the bandit. He was wearing fatigues much like the Army. Instead of blocks of different shades of gray, his uniform consisted of claw-like shreds of blue shades. On his arm, there was a patch of a white, blue, and red flag where the patch depicting an American flag should be. Daniel recognized it. It was another symbol of the old world. Daniel picked up the AK and examined it. He thought about keeping it. He pushed the thought aside after considering how rare ammunition for it was. Daniel placed the AK back into the crate.

"Battle-hardened super soldiers…" Daniel muttered to himself.

"They're called Spetsnaz, actually," the man said.

Daniel turned to look at him. The lantern coated the man's attire with an eerie glow.

"How could they be here?" Daniel asked, "Didn't Washington nuke them too?"

The man responded, "Who's to say Moscow didn't survive? We managed to, so it isn't completely unbelievable."

Daniel wasn't sure if he could believe that coming from such an apparitional man.

The man continued quizzically, "Do you know how long a submarine can stay underwater?"

Daniel was puzzled by the question at first. After thinking about it for a moment he had remembered an article he had read long ago, when the world was connected with electricity and machines. The man didn't let Daniel answer.

"As long as they have food," he said, "They can stay underwater for as long as their food supply lasts."

"You sure know a lot about the old world," Daniel said implicatively.

"It would seem I know about as much as you do."

His words were like needles scratching the back of Daniel's mind. Every word the man said bothered Daniel more and more.

"How did you get on the train?"

"I've been scouting it for about a week now."

"Bandits have only had the train a couple of days."

"I know. I watched them take it."

"You were watching the Army too?"

The man nodded once.

"Why?"

The man didn't respond. Daniel let out a heavy sigh. He decided pushing for further information would be a waste of time. He walked past the man and picked up his helmet. He shook and turned it until it and his mask were comfortably in place. He began to walk toward the front of the train.

"Going somewhere?" the man asked.

"To meet a contact," Daniel responded.

"Central North was overrun by a pack of howlers a few hours ago."

Daniel stopped and let out another angry sigh. He turned around and walked briskly past the man toward the back of the train.

"Do you plan on shooting your way through a company of highly-trained soldiers?"

Daniel stopped again. He grew irritated.

Daniel turned and looked at the man and angrily asked, "What else am I supposed to do?"

"You should be a bit more respectful to someone trying to help you."

"You're a real fuckin' peach, but if I needed your help, I'd ask for it."

"It seems to me like your options are pretty limited."

Daniel was fed up with the man's teasing.

"I don't see how your sass is going to help me get home."

"Would you like me to help you out?"

Daniel felt like the man was leading him in circles.

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Not far from here is an opened exit to the surface. My friends have a small camp in the B tunnel. You can easily get back to your home station from there."

Daniel began to feel as though the man's plan was too convenient.

"You're a stalker, aren't you? I've heard the stories. 'A man led by some greater power braves the surface and always returns unharmed.' The surface shouldn't be a problem for you."

"Those stories are exaggerated."

"Really? So, what about Yankee Stadium? Was that actually a wholesome community with one small, innocent secret, then? And what about MedRite? I'm sure that 'howler nest' was really just a few lost puppies, huh?"

Daniel grew irritated again.

"You've got a big fuckin' mouth…"

"And you have a big closet. How many skeletons do you think will fit before the bones start spilling out? Who will be the one to clean up the mess?"

Daniel felt like he was being toyed with again. He didn't say anything. He was too angry to say anything. The man turned on the flashlight on his helmet and set the lantern down the way it was when he first picked it up.

"We'd better get going," he said, "As enjoyable as your company may be, you aren't the only lost soul I have an interest in."

The man stepped off the train and started down the tunnel. Daniel didn't trust him, but he didn't like the odds of his only other option either.

"Out of the frying pan…" Daniel whispered to himself.

After one last look into the tunnel behind him, he decided to follow the specter to the surface.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 6: Old City

As Daniel followed the man through the tunnel, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread. Something about this man made him feel uneasy and cold. Perhaps it was just his demeanor, but Daniel still couldn't help but feel tense.

"What should I call you?" Daniel asked the man, "Stalkers always at least learn their partners' names before hitting the surface."

The man simply answered without looking back, "John Doe."

Daniel felt as though the man was patronizing him again.

"Alright then, 'John,' where exactly are we going?"

"We're taking a stroll down 96th."

"What about the hawks around Central Park?"

"Misinformation. Army's always had a terrible intelligence network."

Daniel knew he couldn't argue against that. As they headed through the tunnel, Daniel started to feel short of breath. John led Daniel to an empty station. There were signs that humans inhabited it at some point in time, but now it was empty and frigid.

"Filter," John said.

He pulled an air filter out of a pocket on his thigh and attached it to his mask. Daniel followed suit and twisted a fresh air filter into a slot on his mask. He immediately found it easier to breathe. He pressed a button on his wristwatch. It beeped once. It displayed a number that began to count down. Daniel wasn't sure how long their journey would take, but hoped twenty minutes would be enough time. He uttered a short prayer asking God to ensure their safety before continuing after John. John and Daniel climbed onto the boarding platform. Daniel noticed the body of a man leaning against a wall. From the characteristic coat made of tabby fur, Daniel thought it looked more like a stalker than a former resident. The frozen husk, mummified in ice, clutched a gun much like Daniel's rifle. Daniel crouched by the corpse and scanned it. He grabbed hold of the coat and pulled. The ice crackled and snapped as he peeled the coat away from the body's chest. His vest was littered with magazines, filters, and morphine. He plucked what he had room for from the corpse and caught up to John. John led Daniel up a flight of stairs and through a corridor. After vaulting over a frozen turnstile, Daniel could hear the wind blowing fiercely. They were close. The bitter cold cut through his clothing. The further down the hallway they walked, the louder the hum of the wind became. As they ascended the final set of stairs, the light shone through the large doors. Daniel quickly shielded his eyes with his arm.

"Relax," John said, "It's dusk. Only thing you need to watch for is the beasts."

Daniel lowered his arm and continued climbing the stairs. The bright light would still be detrimental to any average metro dweller, but Daniel was accustomed to the light of the surface. He hardly ever had to take vitamin D supplements. They walked through what looked like a door frame. Daniel looked around the stairs into the station. The huge metal slab that was supposed to cover the stairs had been smashed and tossed aside. There were remnants of what looked to Daniel like walls. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked around the street. He scanned the buildings that had collapsed ages ago. The hollow shells that were still standing loomed overhead. Decrepit automobiles sprawled along the street had been scorched by the bombs. Some were overturned. Icicles hung from the bumpers and mirrors of the cars. One semi-truck trailer blocked the way down 95th street. The truck had buried itself into a building. John walked around the station entrance and up the road. Daniel noticed a traffic light post on the ground. He could just barely make out the words on a street sign still attached that read _Broadway_ in dirty white letters. He looked up at the sky. The grey and black bricks of the buildings reached out to the white sky.

"It's a shame," John said disappointedly, "I really liked the grass…"

Daniel was surprised that John actually showed a bit of humanity.

"It'll be back in a week or so," Daniel said back, "The winter's almost through."

Daniel wasn't sure why he was trying to reassure the creepy man. John didn't respond. He stared at the icy road. Daniel thought he seemed disconnected from the world. Not even the wind seemed to touch him. It was like he was in another place. The screech of a hawk circling overhead startled Daniel. He became alert; his gaze darted back and forth. He quickly crept under the shadow of the building beside them. John didn't seem concerned in the slightest. He slowly looked up to meet the gaze of the enormous hunter perched on a flag-post that jutted out of a building roof. The beast just watched him. Daniel had seen one up close before, but had heard they have different variations in appearance. One story described a red hawk that nested atop the tallest building in the city. This hawk had dull grey and white feathers. It extended its wings and flapped them a few times before returning to a perched position. Each of its wings were at least the size of Daniel in length. Feathers fell from its wings and gently glided through the air. It had a large, compacted body. Its beak looked like a cat's claw. John began to walk along the road. The bird bobbed its head up and down in a very slow rhythm. John turned and slowly strolled toward the buildings. Daniel crept along the wall and followed John. He made sure to keep in the shade to avoid the monster's sight. As John moved further down the road, the beast's head followed along with quick jerks. Its eye looked like a gigantic black pearl. Daniel thought it looked a lot like the clock above Grand Station. John rounded the corner and walked onto the sidewalk. Daniel quickly followed behind him. The hawk vanished behind the buildings. Daniel felt relieved once it was out of sight.

"You're crazy," Daniel said to John quietly.

John continued down the street. He extended his arm and ran his fingers along the wall of the building beside him.

"They've always been flying rats," John said, "They'll always be flying rats."

The majority of the walk on 96th was uneventful. The world seemed to stand still. The wind that was previously blowing fiercely had all but died down completely. Daniel found the silence stifling, but not completely unwelcome. Normally there would be more monsters so close to Central Park. John sauntered along the sidewalk. He walked as if he were full of glee. He didn't seem to have a care in the world. Hundreds of monsters in the city would love to make a meal of him, but he didn't seem concerned at all. Just as that thought crossed Daniel's mind, a tabby flew through the air and landed a short way ahead of John. It tumbled and fell onto its side. Daniel hugged the wall and kept low. John didn't seem to care and continued walking.

In a very raspy and forced whisper, Daniel called out to John, "What are you doing? Get down!"

John stopped at stared at the tabby lying on the ground. A small group of howlers also appeared and surrounded the tabby. The tabby stood up and growled at the howlers. Its long, slender tail slowly twitched back and forth. Its fur was a yellow-orange color with stripes seemingly wrapped around its body. The stripes formed what looked like the letter "M" on its forehead. Its paws were the size of Daniel's head, and its claws looked like enormous hunting knives. The howlers circled the tabby. Each time one took a step too close, the tabby would growl as it stepped backward away from the others. The howlers looked a lot like the dogs Daniel would see for sale in Square, but they were larger and had what looked like talons on their three toes. One howler lunged at the tabby. It roared like a tiger before wrapping its front legs around the howler and slashing its back. The howler whimpered and flailed about. The tabby jumped on it and sunk its teeth into the howler's neck. The howler stopped moving. John continued walking. He briskly walked past the struggle and ignored it entirely. One howler noticed him and began to growl at him. John looked straight at the howler. John took a revolver out of his coat and held it tightly in his hand. Another howler began to growl at John. The first took a step forward before lunging toward John. John was like a flash of lightning. In the blink of an eye, he raised his pistol and shot the howler in the head. The bullet ripped through its head, sending chunks of flesh and bone everywhere, and painted the road red. John pointed the gun at the other and fired. The howler dropped dead immediately. John pointed the gun at the tabby. The tabby growled at John. It slowly backed away toward the alley it had sprung from. John followed it with his pistol. The tabby quickly jumped onto a car and scurried back into the alleyway before disappearing into the darkness. John holstered his weapon and continued walking down the road. Daniel quickly followed behind him.

"You must have a death wish, making all that noise back there…" Daniel scolded.

"I used to think the same thing about you," John replied, "but now I'm not sure."

Daniel didn't understand what he meant.

"One minute you're willing to trudge knee-deep in tabby shit to wipe out a hive," John explained further, "and the next you refuse to so much as slap someone trying to kill you. Then, you hide and try your damnedest to stay alive."

John chuckled under his breath.

"You're a mystery, Danny-boy…"

"I could say the same about you."

"Maybe you could."

John didn't carry on the conversation any further. He just continued walking. Daniel got the feeling that he was hiding something. It didn't sit right with him. They finally reached the edge of Central Park. Daniel couldn't see much. What he could see was a depressing heap of scorched tree bark. Decrepit trees stood like tooth-picks. The once lush grass was completely gone, replaced by ice and thin patches of snow. Even the dirt was burnt. John stomped on a large metal slab covering the subway station entrance. Nothing happened. He began to vigorously kick the metal door. Daniel heard the sound of metal scraping together. John took a step back. The door collapsed open. From the hole emerged an assault rifle and a man dressed similarly to John.

"Open the door faster next time," John ordered.

The man scanned John up and down. After a moment, he quickly lowered his weapon and took a step back.

"Oh, uh… sorry, sir," he stammered.

Daniel tried to look for anything that would indicate John's status, to no avail. John stepped into the hole and entered the subway. Daniel nodded at the guard before following after him.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7: Black Cats

Daniel was relieved to be back in the subway; his dark, musty hole of a home. As depressing as life in the metro tunnels could be, recalling life from before the war was even more so. The only feelings the image of the rotting old world invoked in him were sorrow and regret. John led Daniel down into the station and stopped when they reached a half-collapsed metal fence and a row of old turnstiles.

"Wait here," John said.

He disappeared further into the station. Daniel sat against one of the turnstiles and waited. A few moments passed, then a few minutes. Daniel grew bored. He started watching the people he could see past the fence. Burly men shuffled by periodically. Some even noticed him. A handful of others sat along the wall and talked. One man sat alone and shuffled through his equipment. Their attire varied greatly. Some had coats made of tabby skin. Others wore Army fatigues. One man was dressed in a bulky radiation-resistant suit. One thing that each man had in common was the patch just below their left shoulder. From what Daniel could see, it was an image depicting a single black cat. Someone finally approached him. It was a woman. Daniel didn't see John anywhere. She had eyes like an eagle and stood like an angry tabby, but she was short. Daniel noticed the patch of the cat was on her right shoulder. She seemed irritated. She had a shrill voice that scratched against Daniel's eardrums.

She asked angrily, "Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?"

She placed one hand on her hip and bent over the turnstile on the other. Daniel was slightly offended. He grew a little irritated himself, but refrained from saying anything rude.

"Well? I'm waiting."

Daniel looked at her and struggled to find something to say. He couldn't think of anything civil to say to her. The only words that ran through his head were insults and abrasive criticisms. She snapped her fingers in front of Daniel's face and started barking orders.

"Hey, wake up! You stupid or something? Come on, out with it!"

"Come now, Victoria," someone said from behind her, "That's no way to treat a guest."

Daniel looked over Victoria's head. A large, jolly-looking man smiled warmly at Daniel. The man reminded Daniel a lot of Ross. If not for his brown skin and long, slick black hair, Daniel may have mistaken the man for Ross.

"Welcome to our station, amigo!" the man bellowed happily. He extended an arm and held out his hand.

"Davíd Marín; and the ferocious little feline behind me is Victoria."

Daniel took off his helmet and shook the man's hand.

"It's a pleasure, Mr. 'Mah-reen.' Call me Daniel."

"Please, call me Dave," the man said with a smile, "I like to think it's easier to remember."

Daniel could feel Victoria's needle-like glare on him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Victoria," Daniel said cautiously.

She didn't respond.

"Don't mind her too much," Dave teased, "She's just shy around unfamiliar faces."

"You might be confusing 'bashful' with "'venomous…'"

Victoria stood up straight and scowled. Before she could react, Dave let out a loud laugh.

"I like this guy!" he said happily. Dave draped his arm over Daniel's shoulders.

"Come with me, amigo! I'll get you a drink and you can tell me where you came from."

Dave led Daniel into the station. They walked down a flight of stairs to the boarding platform. They passed by several people sitting by a fire. They huddled next to the flame and sipped from old metal mugs. One strummed on a guitar. The somber melody and flickering flames of the fire and lantern painted the station with a dim, yellow-orange coat of gloom. Daniel looked back at Dave. He was grinning happily and patting the shoulders of every person they passed by with a laugh. Dave led Daniel into a dark room. Victoria closed the door behind them. Dave flipped on a lamp on his desk. The walls were covered with pipes and metal bars. On one side of the room, Daniel could see valves and pressure gauges. Dave reached underneath the desk and grabbed two canteens full of water. He tossed one to Daniel. Daniel opened it up and caught a whiff of the scent that oozed out. It was like copper and urine. Daniel twisted the cap back onto the bottle and placed it on the table. Dave chugged a large swig from his bottle. He wiped his lips off with his sleeve. He sat behind his desk and relaxed in his chair.

"So, Danny; you mind if I call you Danny?" Dave chattered, "What brings you to our little campamento?"

Daniel felt something press up against the back of his head. He heard the familiar _click_ of the hammer of a pistol pulling back into the ready position.

"Don't even think of trying anything," Victoria hissed.

Daniel raised his arms level with his waist and held them to his sides.

"Easy, now," Daniel pleaded calmly, "I just wasn't thirsty. No need to get upset over it."

"You think you're a funny guy, huh? Let's see how funny you are with a bullet in your brain."

Daniel's senses became heightened and he grew alert. He tried to keep calm and reason with Victoria.

"I don't want any trouble. I just want to get back to my station."

"Victoria, please," Dave ordered, "Let me handle it."

Daniel kept quiet and listened. Victoria was angry. Daniel felt as though the hostility was more brought on by a sense of foreboding fear than actual resentment.

"This camp is supposed to be a secret!"

"And Veterans are supposed to be more level-headed."

"He's probably with the Army!"

"We don't know that. Let him speak first."

Victoria pushed the barrel of the gun harder against Daniel's head.

"You better not lie to us. Or else you're dead, you hear me?"

Daniel tried to think. He wasn't sure if he should tell them about his job with the Army squad. His thoughts darted around in his mind. He had difficulty finding the words to say at first, but Daniel started to explain himself little by little. He reluctantly told them about the train and the squad. Victoria became even more enraged.

"So you are with Army!"

"I'm not with the Army. I'm a stalker. I live in Grand Square. After those soldiers died, a man calling himself John brought me here."

Daniel quickly glanced at the patch on Dave's shoulder.

"He had a patch on his right shoulder like you do."

Dave, who had just been intently listening, asked, "What do you know about that?"

"I know it's a status thing. The door guard noticed it on John when I first got here. And I assume you two are important if you have you have an office like this."

Victoria was still heated.

"You don't actually believe this bullshit, do you?" she grunted angrily, "We're the only Vets around here!"

"Maybe," Dave answered, "But we're not the only Veteranos in the city."

After a quick pause and a heavy sigh, Dave stood up and walked to Victoria.

"Go find that guard and ask him who came through."

Victoria was flustered.

"But, I—"

"I told you I would handle it."

Victoria lowered her head. She holstered her weapon. Without saying another word, she shoved the door open and stormed out of the room. Dave let out another sigh.

"Sometimes I just don't know what to do with that woman."

Daniel didn't say anything. He was still on edge.

"Which station did you say you're from again?" Dave asked after gluing the grin back onto his face.

"Grand Square," Daniel answered cautiously.

Dave nodded his head and put a contemplative look on his face. He stroked his chin with his index finger and thumb.

"Well, I'm sure I'm gonna get yelled at for this, but I'll believe what you say."

Daniel felt a bit relieved, but didn't drop his defensive attitude.

"Does that mean you'll help me get home?"

"One of our carts will go missing. If it turns up in Grand Square, well, that'll be an unfortunate accident."

"I appreciate it."

"I never said it was a gift! Consider this a favor."

Daniel thought for a minute. It wouldn't be the first time he'd owed someone a favor. It would be insignificant considering what he had uncovered.

"If your people come to my station, make sure they call on the Prophet. I'd rather not get my station mixed up in anything, especially since you seem to be at odds the Army."

"I'll keep that in mind, amigo."

Dave chuckled before opening up the door. He led Daniel back through the station. They stopped next to a railcart under a large plank of wood spattered blue. There was a man in the cart sifting through bags.

Dave pointed at him and ordered, "You there. I need your cart."

The man looked at Dave. After a moment, the man started tossing the bags onto the platform. After all the bags were removed, he hopped off the cart and continued looking through them.

"Hey, amigo," Dave said, "This is just a friendly suggestion, but how about you forget everything you saw here, eh?"

Daniel stepped onto the cart and sat in the seat next to the engine. He looked up at Dave and narrowed his eyes. He pursed his lips and scratched his cheek.

"Who are you?" he asked nonchalantly.

Dave laughed, "Adios. Have a safe trip, Stranger."

Daniel started the engine. Dave waved at Daniel as the cart rolled into the darkness of the tunnel.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8: Condemnation

Daniel saw the lights and heard the sounds of his home. As the giant metal gate swung closed behind him, Daniel finally let himself relax. He was glad to be home, even if it was in the Army's side of 42nd station. Two Army soldiers stood on the boarding platform. One held out his arm, signaling for Daniel to stop the cart. Daniel pulled the brake lever. The rubber of the brakes had worn, causing the metal to scrape against the wheels of the cart. The wheels let out a steady, high-pitched ring as the cart came to a complete stop next to the soldiers.

"What's your name?" a soldier asked him, "You here for trade?"

As Daniel stepped off the cart and tromped into the station, he replied to the soldier, "Tell Major Diaz the Prophet needs to see him in Ross' office. It's important."

The soldier saluted and hustled to find his superior. Daniel looked back over his shoulder.

"Well, at least the title's good for something…" he whispered to himself.

Daniel walked through the long hallway to Square station. He passed by several Army soldiers going about their daily business. Some were in uniform, some weren't wearing their coats, and others wore civilian clothing. They sat at tables and talked. A few played a game with cards and smoked. Daniel assumed it was poker. One pair of soldiers practiced disarming and grappling techniques in the glinting light of a lantern. Daniel came to a guard post. A Peacemaker stood by the gap between a line of metal fencing. He seemed to recognize Daniel's attire.

"Come on through, Stalker," he said as he waved Daniel through the checkpoint.

The Peacemaker looked to Daniel like the riot control officers that swept through the stations after the war. They wore vests that looked like Daniel's but were made of thick plastic and lined with thin bricks of tightly-packed dry foam. Their helmets were made of the same kind of dense plastic and had a clear visor that could be pulled down to cover and protect their faces. Their arms and knees were covered with the same protective armor. Their boots climbed all the way up their thighs. They were covered with protective metal or plastic plates and heavy foam. The assortment of armor was clamped around their legs with strips of nylon that coiled around their legs like a snake. Often referred to as "Hunter's little brother," the Peacemakers were the law in Grand Square. Daniel hurried to Ross' office. There was a guard standing next to the door. Daniel breezed past him and reached for the door handle. The guard tried to stop him by reaching for his arm and calling out, but was too late. Daniel pushed the door open. Inside the room was a woman wearing only a garter-belt, stockings, and high-heel shoes standing on a chair with one leg on Ross' desk. Daniel could see Ross' face in the space between her legs. Ross looked back through at Daniel.

"Danny!" Ross called out excitedly, "You're back!"

He stood up walked around his desk. Daniel walked into the room and closed the door behind him. He looked at the woman who had stepped off the chair and had covered her chest with her arms.

"I need to talk to you," Daniel said to Ross.

Ross motioned toward the door and said to the woman, "Get lost, Baby."

She whined back, "But you said you were gonna drill me today!"

"Later! I gotta work," Ross whined sarcastically in return.

The woman sucked her teeth and put a long coat on. She stormed out of the room, still pouting. As the door creaked closed, Ross walked to his liquor cabinet.

"You want a drink, pal?" Ross asked.

Daniel shook his head. Ross pulled a glass and bottle of alcohol from his shelf and sat at his desk.

"So, how'd it go, Danny-boy?"

"We've got a real problem."

The smile on Ross' face quickly drained into a concerned scowl after looking at Daniel's face. The door of the office suddenly swung open. Diaz walked into the office and seemed to immediately feel the disheartening mood.

"Judging from the look on your face," Diaz said, "I guess you have bad news for me."

"I was just talking to Ross about it."

"So, what happened? Where is the rest of the squad?"

"They're dead. Raven and the two boys."

"What happened?"

"We were spotted. When we tried to defend ourselves, Raven got hit and—"

"Yes, that's very tragic. Was it the Fed's that did it?"

Daniel wasn't surprised at the lack of remorse Diaz showed. He could hear Ross' foot tapping on the concrete. He glanced at Ross, who had laced his fingers together and leaned on his desk, covering his mouth. He was glaring at Diaz.

"It's wasn't the Government," Daniel continued, "They were Russian."

"Russian? You're sure?"

"I saw the flags myself."

"Did you dispose of them?"

"I barely got away alive. They started the train and I had to stop it. I left it by 96th."

Diaz nodded and seemed to lose himself in thought for a moment before looking back up at Daniel and carrying on.

"How did you get back?"

"I found a cart by a group of dead traders on the ACE line."

"Why did you go to the ACE line?"

"To avoid instigating another Cold War."

Diaz wasn't amused.

"That's well enough I suppose."

Diaz turned toward the door.

Ross stood up from his desk and said, almost shouting, "We held up our end of the deal."

Diaz didn't turn around, but had stopped short. "And we'll fulfill ours. The prisoner will be placed into the custody of your Peacemakers."

Diaz left the room, leaving Ross and Daniel alone. Ross sat back down in his chair. Daniel could tell he was angry.

"'Tragic,' huh?" Daniel whispered to himself.

"That shit really gets to me, man," Ross complained, "They don't give a shit about their own damn people!"

Daniel let Ross seethe. He knew to stay away from the receiving end of Ross' anger. Ross finished his drink and tried to calm himself down.

"I guess getting pissy about it, won't help anything, will it?"

Ross plugged the bottle closed and stood up. He set it back into its place on his liquor shelf.

"So, Danny-boy, how about you come with me? Let's see if we can't get somethin' outta that Fed."

"We're not just going to look for that prostitute, are we?"

"Come on, Danny, do I really look like that kind of guy?"

Daniel looked away and shrugged his shoulders implicatively. They shared a laugh as Ross opened the door and they both stepped out of the office. They walked through the station, following signs stained with a large number 7 inside a pink square. As they walked, Ross told Daniel about his next job.

"Sorry to dump this on you when you just got back, Danny, but I need you for something else pretty soon."

"What is it?"

"I'll let you know more when things are set and solid, but I need you to train a kid to be a stalker."

"Why me and not someone else?"

"Until I know for sure, I can't give you an answer to that."

"You know I'll do whatever you need me to."

"I can always count on you, Danny."

They walked down a set of stairs onto a boarding platform. Small alcoves and train cars had been repurposed into jail cells. The metal fencing and iron slabs normally found near or blocking station entrances were used to keep criminals locked up. The cells were relatively empty. One prisoner sat in his cell looking bored. Another was asleep. A handful of guards sat in chairs or patrolled the platform, going from cell to cell and checking on the prisoners. One guard stood atop a tall wooden structure and watched over the entire platform from above. Normally, the only crimes committed in Grand Square were limited to petty thievery and assault, with the occasional belligerent drunkard sleeping off his buzz. There had only ever been one murder since Ross took over leadership. Daniel remembered it was something over a cheating husband and cigarette butt. He recalled hearing the lipstick mark that was on the cigarette belonged to the murderer. Daniel and Ross reached the interrogation room. It had been a bathroom in the past. The stalls were torn down to be used as doors and walls for other homes or stores. Daniel could see the shattered toilets and sinks. A man sat in a wobbly chair with his hands tied to the back as a guard stood against the wall threateningly. The prisoner was hunched over and appeared to be sleeping. Ross stooped next to the man and shook him to wake him up.

"Wake up," Ross ordered, "I need to talk to you."

The man slowly lifted his head and looked at Ross. His stare was blank, his jaw hung open, and drool dripped from his bottom lip.

"This is the guy?" Daniel quietly asked, more to himself than someone else.

Ross seemed to hear him and answered, "Apparently, but I don't see how this guy sat through their torture without a word."

It was as if the man was sleeping with his eyes half-open. He just stared at Ross with eyes like those of a dead fish. Ross barked questions at the man. He asked why he wanted to attack Grand Square and why he tried to sabotage the generators. The man just stared at Ross, unblinking and unresponsive.

"You think radiation melted his brain or something?" Ross asked.

Daniel wasn't convinced that was the case.

"I'm pretty sure radiation poisoning wouldn't do something like that."

"Some kind of new weapon?"

"Maybe he just got shot in the head."

The man slowly turned his head to look at Daniel. His face seemed to pull itself back as a look of both terror and joy brought life back into his eyes. He started screaming violently. Ross stood up and quickly took a step back. The startled Peacemaker in the corner pulled his weapon in front of him and pointed it at the man. Ross held his arm out to signal the Peacemaker not to shoot. The man screeched like a banshee. He lurched upward onto his feet, bringing the backrest of the chair his arms were bound to with him. He slowly shuffled toward Daniel in small steps. His feet scraped the ground and made an eerie noise as he drew closer. It was a horrifying sight, as if a corpse had sprung to life and started walking. The man's screams suddenly turned to sobs. He fell to his knees and tried to speak, but all that came out of his mouth was a sinister, pained wailing sound. His sobbing stopped abruptly and he started to speak.

"I was there, in the wound of the fifty-ninth finger of the city," he said.

He was a young man, but his eyes and mouth looked withered, as if they had aged fifty years ahead of his body. His tone and volume alternated from sentence to sentence. He danced sloppily between angry, terrified, and jubilant with his words. He jumped between screaming, whispering, and everything in between without warning.

"We kept the worms from getting in! The veins… Protected…"

He looked up, straight into Daniel's eyes.

"The Shadow Man came. We feared him! We shot him! We couldn't… he wouldn't stop!"

He looked down, his eyes darted back and forth as he lost himself in his memory for a moment.

"He took them all, but not me. He showed me! The light… The Ball!"

His gaze darted around the ceiling where it met with the walls.

"The light in the veins! It hears the light!"

He stared straight into the lightbulb of the lamp overhead.

"The light had to die or it would come. It follows the rats when they move. It touches the ones that move until they don't move!"

He screamed as loud as he could.

"_They don't move_!"

His tone switched back and forth erratically as it had before. He looked down, back into Daniel's face.

"He showed me you… He touched my face like he touched yours."

Tears streamed down his face. It looked to Daniel as if he had remembered something tragic.

"Stop the light…"

He repeated himself over and over through his sobs, just saying those three words. Still repeating himself, he fell forward. His body stretched across the floor. He continued repeating himself quietly while writhing on the floor strenuously. It seemed his fit had come to an end, but Daniel was still in a state of shock. He could hear Ross talking, but didn't really hear what he said. He couldn't stop thinking about what the insane man had said. The Peacemaker picked the man up off the ground and led him out of the room. He seemed to have trouble getting the man to walk and had to half-drag him out. Daniel watched the man and the guard leave the room. He heard Ross saying something again. His senses slowly came back to him.

"Danny!" Ross called out loudly.

Daniel snapped out of his stupor. Ross had placed his hands on Daniel's shoulders and was looking at his face. His normal gleeful grin was hidden behind a mask of concern.

"You alright buddy? I thought I lost ya."

"Yeah, I'm alright. Just a little shocked."

Daniel took a step away from Ross and stood against the wall.

"That was some pretty heavy stuff, huh? Did you understand a word of it, Danny?"

"No, most of it was nonsense, but that thing he said about a 'Shadow Man' makes me think…"

"You think you got something?"

"I remember thinking the same thing when I saw the angel in Union. 'Shadow Man' was the only thing I could think to call him until I realized what was going on."

"You think it was that angel of yours that did that to him?"

"Not the same one. The one that saved me died that day."

"So why aren't you crazy?"

"I'm not sure…"

"What do you think he meant by 'the wound in the fifty-ninth finger?'"

Daniel thought for a moment. He could only think of an open cut or a broken bone. He suddenly remembered something Ross had said in the past about a massive tunnel collapse.

"Which station did you say caved in a few years ago?"

"Opera House, why?"

"The one on Lexington and 59th, right?"

"You think that's what he meant?"

"It's gotta be."

Ross thought for a moment.

"That's too damn close… I'll send someone over there. If your angels or whatever are driving people nuts and trying to kill us, I'm having my men shoot them."

"He always forgives our sins, my friend."

Ross chuckled aloud. Daniel was glad to see his friend's usual smile.

"Yeah, you tell me that every chance you get. Go get some sleep. I'll call you when I find out what's going on over there."

Daniel nodded. He felt the fatigue wash over him like a wave. He rubbed his eyes with his palms and headed out the door. He stopped and watched the Peacemaker place the madman in his cage.

He was still repeating to himself, "Stop the light…"

He wore the dull, lifeless expression he had when Daniel first saw him. Daniel walked home. He didn't bother taking the inter-station transport. He'd just fall asleep in the seat. As he passed through the mess hall, he thought about getting something to eat. He decided on a roll from the bakery. The baker's welcoming smile was as warm as the bread he made. Daniel walked to his home before eating the bun. He dropped his bag and helmet beside his desk. He didn't bother stopping his helmet when it slowly rolled in a semi-circle near his foot. He sat at his desk and took a bite of his food. It was good bread, but it was missing something. Daniel thought of the biscuits his mother would occasionally make for breakfast in the mornings before his family went to church. He remembered sitting at the small table next to the counter in his house's kitchen. There was just enough room for the four people in his family. He remembered his father poking his meal with a fork and stuffing fried eggs into his mouth. He remembered the muffled compliments he'd mumble to Daniel's mother and the terrible joke he'd always make.

"You like seafood?" he'd say before opening his mouth, revealing the chewed up mush.

He remembered his sister's smile. The way she'd laugh at her father's favorite joke every time. He recalled the argument that would break out when his father would steal something from the young girl's plate and gobble it down happily. His reminiscence trickled back to where it began when he recalled his mother breaking up the fight by setting a plate of biscuits on the table. Her warm smile was always there to comfort Daniel if he ever felt unhappy or anxious. He thought of something that had disappeared since the bombs fell.

"Needs butter…" Daniel complained to himself, his mouth still full of bread.

He listened to the chattering noise of people passing by. The echo of their footsteps on the concrete was nearly drowned out by the conversations of friends and families in their homes or the makeshift alleyways. Daniel enjoyed his plain meal alone in the dim white glow of the lamp on his desk.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9: King

Daniel strolled through the common area toward Ross' office. He always enjoyed the vibrant atmosphere. Typically he'd be sifting through the murky and bleak world of the surface, so the lively faces and noise that didn't indicate impending doom were a nice change of pace for him. He walked through the armory. Peacemakers passed by him. He watched a couple of stalkers check their equipment together. Daniel deduced that they were setting up to leave for a job soon. Their gasmasks and helmets were stuck together exactly like Daniel's were. They wore vests much like the plated armor the Peacemakers wore. They strapped belts with magazines of dirty bullets around their waists. The leather of the belt tightly gripped the magazines to keep them from moving or making noise. At a glance, the only difference in appearance between them and Daniel were their coats. The defining characteristic of a Square stalker was the coat they wore. They wore coats made from the dull grey-brown skin of howlers. The hide of the beast was known to provide substantial protection from the cold and radiation of the surface, as well as the rain of the warmer season. Stalkers knew this protection was essential, considering the amount of time they spent on the surface during their treks above the subway. Some wealthy metro-dwellers wore them as well. Experts could skin the beasts without damaging the coat, making for a soft and comfortable symbol of their skill. Daniel's thoughts circled around as he walked. He thought of the tabbies and how valuable their skins were. The fearsome monsters could rip a man to pieces in mere seconds. Even Hunters were weary of confronting a tabby alone. Many Hunters kept the heads of their kills as trophies to show their skill and boast to rookies. Daniel reached Ross' office. He reached for the door handle and placed his hand on the doorknob. Before twisting it to open the door, he stopped short. He knocked on the door and listened closely.

"It's open," he heard Ross call from behind the door.

Daniel twisted the doorknob and walked into the office. Ross looked up from a notebook he was scribbling in.

"It ain't like you to knock, Danny-boy," Ross teased.

"After last time, I feel like I should make it a habit," Daniel teased in return.

"You can't deny that she had a nice rack."

"I guess I don't have the same sense for woman that you do."

"Oh, I forgot; you're an ass man, aren't you?"

Ross laughed aloud. Someone knocked on the door.

"More work?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah, looks like it."

"Should I go?"

"Nah, sit down 'n' give me a minute; I wanted to hang out today."

Ross closed the notebook and leaned back in his chair. Daniel moved to the wall and leaned against it. He tried to make himself as small as possible to stay out of the way. Two more knocks echoed through the door.

"It's open," Ross called out toward the door.

The door swung open. A Peacemaker stepped into the office and closed the door behind him.

"What do you need?" Ross asked.

"You said you needed me?" the Peacemaker said before lifting the helmet from his head.

Daniel thought he sounded young. He studied the man closely.

"Oh, yeah! I need your badge since you ain't a Peacemaker anymore."

The guard pulled a piece of metal from his chest and placed it on Ross' desk. It was a small shield, similar in color to a military-grade bullet.

"I'll have someone grab you later on, so take it easy until then."

The Peacemaker nodded. He turned around walked out of the office. The door creaked closed, leaving the room in a moment of silence.

"I'm guessing that's the kid you mentioned before?" Daniel asked.

"That's him," Ross answered, "I need you to make him as good as you."

"Why me? There are plenty of better stalkers out there."

"Who better to train my left hand than my right?"

"Oh, that's what it is, huh?"

"I can trust you with anything, man, but I know that you can't do everything."

He stood up and walked to Daniel. He placed his hand on Daniel's shoulder.

"So, if I have two of you, maybe I can keep you around a little longer."

Daniel could tell Ross was worried about him. The smirk on his face failed to hide that fact.

"So, why him? Couldn't you find someone with experience?"

"Probably, but he looks up to you."

Ross strolled to his desk and picked up the badge. He inspected it closely. He seemed to be recalling an old memory.

"And I guess he reminds me a little of you, Danny-boy. Someone who follows exactly what I say can't do what you do."

"Does he cause a lot of trouble?"

Ross raised his voice. He didn't sound angry; he sounded rather amused.

"All the fuckin' time! Every day, I get complaints that he breaks things and flirts with anything that doesn't have a pair of balls!"

Ross put the badge back on his desk.

"But he always gets the job done and he does it well. That's what I need."

Ross slapped Daniel's arm and smiled.

"Enough about work, though! That duo you like's playing at the oyster bar today. They said they had a song they made for me, so I figured we'd go check it out."

Daniel pushed himself away from the wall and stood up straight. He and Ross walked out of the office and through the station. Ross continuously stopped to chatter with anyone who greeted him. It was troubling for Daniel because everyone they passed by that wasn't asleep did exactly that. It made Daniel think of how Ross led the station. He was a fair leader. There hadn't been a single famine since he started giving orders. Sparse food and water supplies plagued the other stations quite often. Usually they'd be pilfered, but Daniel would occasionally hear whispers of a poor decision leading to a great loss. Ross was a kind leader. He met every problem with a smile and a hearty laugh. He cared deeply for each resident of Grand Square. Whenever anyone met with tragedy, such as the grieving family of a stalker or injured travelers, he would always go out of his way to assist them. Even bandits respected him enough to avoid causing trouble for Grand Square. Daniel thought that could also be the result of the training the Peacemakers go through. Several men that trained soldiers before the war were happy to lend a hand to keep the station safe and secure. Daniel recalled the day he was reunited with his old friend. He had been wandering between stations alone. He'd pick fights with anyone and everything. One man he got into an argument with turned out to be too much for him to handle. With one swift uppercut, the man knocked Daniel flat onto his back. Afterward, the man held out a hand to help Daniel to his feet. Daniel remembered the reassuring smile he offered.

"Your hook's still as shitty as ever, Danny," he remembered the man saying with a chuckle.

Daniel's thoughts wandered until he got stuck on Ross' lecherous nature. He would always grab at waitresses or strippers and he never failed to sniff out a woman willing to take care of him in any station he visited.

"Is it always this crowded here?" Ross asked.

Daniel looked past Ross at the massive blob of people in the mess hall. He hadn't realized they had reached Grand station. Everyone in the room was packed together tightly. Groups of people formed small piles and chatted. Some stood on chairs and benches and called out to one another. A man waved at Daniel and Ross. He was standing by a pair of empty chairs at the front of the mob. Daniel followed Ross to the man. The man asked them to take their seats so he could begin the performance. Daniel sat in the creaky wooden chair while Ross greeted the man. They laughed together for a moment before they parted and Ross sat next to Daniel.

"You really like these guys that much, Danny-boy?" Ross asked as he relaxed in his seat.

Daniel nodded. He let his legs extend in front of him and draped one over the other. He tapped his feet together. He always liked the sound his boots would make when he did so. The man Ross was talking to finally took his place at the head of the crowd and turned to it. Another man holding a guitar dragged a chair along with him and sat next to the first man. The guitar was well-maintained. It reflected the light from the lights overhead and created a dazzling flash when he moved it.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the first man announced boisterously.

The aimless rambling of the crowd died down as everyone listened to the man speak.

"The moment you've all been so patiently waiting for has finally arrived!

He turned around and picked up a small case. After opening it, his instrument was revealed. It was a priceless artifact from the old world: a violin. Daniel had seen the man play it plenty of times in the past, but he had never seen another of its kind anywhere in the subway tunnels. It looked almost pristine; its body glowed in the light of the station with a deep brown color and the silver strings shone vibrantly. Each part of it looked as though it had been polished to a mirror-finish. Daniel always found the sight of the unique marvel to be a breath-taking experience.

"Fifteen years ago, I wandered the tunnels of the subway that sheltered us from the horrors above," the man continued, "I was lost, I was hungry, and I was poor. I scraped what meager living I could together by plucking away at a string tied to a broomstick and begging for food scraps."

The man gestured to Ross.

"Then I was found by this man: the head of this lovely station! I wandered into the Grand Square and was immediately welcomed with open arms, a warm meal…"

He lowered his voice and continued with a sarcastic gesture.

"…and a load of shit to shovel."

Daniel heard a few chuckles behind him. Even Ross was amused. The man continued with his emphatic speech.

"One day, while I was moving boxes in the depot, I opened one to find this…" He held the violin out in front of him. He hung it in his hand, the vibrant light still beaming proudly off its body.

"Since that day, I have been traveling to each station, wherever the sound – no, the _joy_ of music is needed to warm the hearts of others, as mine was all those years ago."

He held the violin to his chest, resting both hands on the neck.

"If this wonderful man had not taken me in and told me to move those crates that day, I would never have found this treasure. I would never have found my reason to live."

He turned and picked the bow of the instrument out of the case.

"To show my gratitude, I would like to play a song with the help of my friend here. We wish to show our gratitude to our great leader – our 'Rex Benignus.'"

The man placed the violin under his chin and prepared himself while the crowd applauded. As the audience's ovation finally died down, the man began to play. He stroked the strings of his violin with the bow. It sung a solemn tune. The hum of the long notes cried out. Daniel felt a chill tickle his spine as he closed his eyes and let the song invade his thoughts. The guitarist joined in. Each steady pluck of the strings rang out with a somber, gentle melody. The song made Daniel think of a man in a perilous situation. He thought of his excursions to the surface. He thought of the time he spent walking through holes in buildings, sifting through brick and dust only to find empty boxes in empty grocery stores. He remembered finding a recipe for pizza in an old diner. He remembered the excited gleam in his partner's eye.

"We're gonna be rich!" he remembered the excited man cry out as he tightly grasped the long-lost treasure.

He remembered the puddle of crimson fluid that escaped the man's body. He remembered desperately trying to stop the blood by tearing his shirt to pieces and wrapping the rags around the stub that used to be the man's knee. He remembered dragging the man toward the subway entrance. He remembered the blinking warning on his watch, reminding him of the two minutes he had left before his last filter would finally be unable to protect him from the toxic air that would seep through his mask. He remembered the ominous howls of the creatures that followed the scent of the blood.

He remembered what his friend had said to him as he lay against a wall before pushing Daniel away; the words shivering past his lips, he told Daniel, "Save a slice for me."

He remembered hearing the thunderous sound of a pistol as he sprinted away, before descending into the safety of the subway. As the song went on, Daniel felt as though the instruments sang out a more relaxing tune. It was a subtle change, but Daniel definitely noticed it. It made him feel uplifted. He couldn't recall the last time he felt anything like it. The hopeful tone was a wonderful contrast to the disparity Daniel felt from the first half. Daniel could hear Ross arguing with someone next to him. Their angry whispers disturbed Daniel's enjoyment of the performance. He grew a little agitated. He wanted to say something, but Ross finally told the man to leave.

"Well, you tell your good-for-nothing colonel that I'll fucking do it," Ross said with a hushed shout, "Mother-fucker can't even take care of one God-damned job! Piece of shit…"

Daniel looked at him. He was gripping the collar of a soldier in his fist. He pushed the man away and turned back to the performers. Daniel could see that he was furious about something.

Daniel leaned over to him and whispered, "What's up?"

Ross – still angry and trying to calm himself down – complained, "The Army's starting to piss me the fuck off, man."

Ross crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. The song still swirled around them, drowning out their quiet conversation.

"You know those crazy fucks from Jersey, right?"

"Those anarchists that rape and kill anything that moves?"

"Those are the guys. They took over Penn Station and the Army can't seem to figure out how to get their heads out of their asses long enough to get it back."

Daniel was surprised, enough to raise his voice.

"They took it over?"

Ross placed his hand over Daniel's mouth.

"Keep it down! If anyone hears this, people are gonna freak out. Living with those maniacs so close is fuckin' scary."

Daniel recollected himself.

"Why can't the Army take it back?"

"Because that fuck-head, Caul, is a moron. I'll need to get a whole team of Hunters to go in there…"

"Do you want me to check it out for you?"

"Slow down, there, buddy! I think this is a little too big for you to handle alone."

"I won't try to fight them, just check it out."

"Seriously, Danny – you know how bad those guys are. Going in there alone would be suicide."

"Since when has that stopped me?"

"Since things started getting fucked around here. Now is not the time to get yourself killed! I need you around."

"I can handle a few savage, psychotic murderers. I won't pick a fight with a whole station. If things get too rough, I'll get out."

The musical crescendo echoed through the halls of the mess hall as the performance came to a close. The violinist bowed. The audience roared with applause and cheers. Ross and Daniel joined the crowd and clapped their hands together.

"Fine, you can go," Ross said reluctantly, "but, if you die, I'll kick your scrawny, little ass."

He turned to Daniel and smirked coyly. Daniel stopped clapping and stood up. He slapped Ross' shoulder as he pierced through the crowd. The musician began another song. It was an upbeat and lively tune. People in the crowd bounced around and danced gleefully. Some pushed forward, toward the music. Daniel just strolled past them. Most people were eager to let him by so they could move that extra inch closer. Daniel walked to his home in order to gather his equipment and prepare to leave.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10: Anarchy

Daniel slowly crawled through the darkness of the tunnel toward his destination. He felt a strange kind of pressure constricting his body. He scanned the tunnel with his flashlight, but didn't see the silhouettes of any ghosts. As he moved further into the tunnel, he started to feel nauseous. He saw the faint glimmer of the light of the station. He doused his light and cautiously inched further. When he finally reached the station, he was greeted by a horrendous sight that caused his stomach to churn. Corpses were piled on top of one another, blood covered the walls and floor, and bodies were hung from the lights that loomed overhead by strands of rope. Daniel felt like he was going to vomit, but choked back his sickness.

"Can't afford another mask…" Daniel whispered to himself after catching his breath.

He drew his rifle and slowly advanced deeper into the station. He climbed onto the boarding platform and scurried into the shadow of a column. He carefully sidled against the walls and peeked around every corner before continuing down corridors. He checked every room and crevice, only to be met with more twisted remains. He heard a noise come from deeper within the station. It sounded to Daniel like someone scraping a broom against the floor. Daniel followed the sound. As he progressed further toward it, the strange sound grew louder. He peeked around a corner and was met with a man scraping his hands across the ground. The man didn't seem to notice him. Daniel thought it best not to disturb the man and simply observed him. The man collected the dirt on the floor into small piles. He then lifted the dirt in his hands off the ground and dumped the piles onto another larger mound of dirt, as if dropping it into a container. Daniel watched the man for a few moments. He was muttering to himself and shaking. Daniel couldn't hear what he was saying. Daniel noticed something in the corner of his eye. A strange, grey figure was moving toward the man. Daniel didn't dare to move. He stood completely still, praying in his head that whatever the creature was hadn't seen him. The man continued to collect dirt, completely unaware of the figure looming over him. It just hovered over the man and stared at him. Daniel couldn't see it very clearly. He wondered if it were a tabby. He didn't think it looked like it, but didn't want to risk moving his head and catching the attention of whatever it was. The man seemed to finish his task. He stood up and mimed picking up his invisible container. After realizing the dirt had stayed on the ground, the man threw a fit. He thrashed about and seemed to have slammed the transparent bucket onto the ground. He kicked the pile of dirt he had made and yelled angrily. He shouted more unintelligible gibberish and stormed off deeper into the station. After he was sure the man was gone, Daniel quickly pointed his rifle at the grey blob. Just as soon as he turned to look, it was gone. It was as if the creature had just vanished. Daniel was certain he had seen something. He turned the corner where the monster had come from, but was greeted by a concrete wall. There were no doors, vents, or exits of any kind to be seen.

"What the fuck…?" Daniel said to himself.

He was confused. He was sure his mind wasn't just playing tricks on him. Daniel turned around and looked where the man had gone. Several of the same monsters slowly drifted through the station. Each time Daniel tried to look directly at them, they would disappear. Daniel grew worried. He couldn't see exactly what they were. They didn't seem to have any kind of definitive shape or size. He quickly moved through the station and followed after the man. After turning one more corner, Daniel found the man again. He was sitting at a small table underneath a bright fluorescent light. There was an empty chair nearby and a revolver on the table. Daniel pointed his gun at the man. He was ready to fire if the man tried to pick up the gun.

"You can see them too, right?" the man asked in a quiet, desperate voice, "You can hear them, right?"

Daniel slowly moved closer, weapon still primed.

"I'm not crazy. They told me I was, but I was the only one who saw them!"

Daniel was sure he meant the strange figures polluting the station, but he wasn't sure what the man had heard. The figures surrounded the two of them. They watched Daniel and the man, just floating around the room.

"They want us to play," the man said softly, "They made everyone play."

He picked up the gun and released the cylinder, revealing that it was not loaded. The man slid a single bullet in before spinning it and whipping it back in place.

"Some people cheated, but I won't cheat. I'm a good man."

He placed the barrel against his head and pulled the trigger. The hammer slammed against the back of the gun with a gentle _click_. He placed the gun on the table and slid it across. He then gestured for Daniel to take a seat. Daniel hesitated. He couldn't think straight. The unexplainable pressure and nausea clouded his judgment. He thought he should just shoot the insane man and leave as quickly as possible. He thought of turning around and running away. Before he knew it, though, he had taken a seat in the chair and picked up the revolver. He placed barrel against the side of his head. Thoughts and doubts raced through his mind. He thought of the times he wished he could end it. He wished he could see his sister again. He thought of suicide as a sin. He remembered what Ross had said before he left. He closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth together. Fear crept into his mind and ate his thoughts like a gluttonous monster. He hadn't felt fear like it in years. He tried to put the gun down, but his body wouldn't move. He panicked; silently in his head, he prayed to God for salvation. He begged for someone to save him. His body resigned itself and he pulled the trigger. _Click_. The gun seemed to scream in his ear, ringing out and letting Daniel know his turn had passed. He gasped for air. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath and felt light-headed. He dropped the gun on the table and gripped his head, resting his elbows on the table. The man swiftly picked up the gun and moved it into position beside his head, ready to pull the trigger. After a moment of silence, he suddenly became enraged.

"No, you told me to do this!" he screamed, "You're the crazy one!"

He roared angrily and pointed the gun at the wall before pulling the trigger repeatedly until the bullet rushed out. The ringing of the gunshot brought Daniel back to his senses. The man was struggling with something Daniel couldn't see.

He slammed his fists against the table and repeatedly shouted, "Fuck you!"

The man finally calmed down and tried to catch his breath. He looked back up at Daniel.

"Sorry," he said, "Sometimes they don't know when to shut their big, stupid mouths. You know what I mean?"

Daniel didn't respond. He wasn't sure how the man would react to any answer he gave. It seemed like the man assumed Daniel could sympathize with him, but Daniel couldn't understand what the man was talking about.

"Let's start over…"

The man loaded the gun with one more bullet the same way he had before. He then placed the gun on the table and spun it. It slowly came to a stop with the barrel pointing at Daniel.

"Looks like you're first."

Daniel looked at the gun again. He didn't want to experience anything like what he just had ever again. He felt he should get it over with as quickly as he could. He picked up the gun and readied himself. He placed the barrel against his head, but stopped short. The fear began trickling back into his head like water flooding a room. He growled and forced himself to pull the trigger again. The gun let out another _click_. Daniel dropped the gun onto the table and tried to recollect his thoughts once more. He couldn't handle much more. He felt sick and thought he was going crazy. He looked at the man and thought he might end up like him. The thought of losing his mind terrified him. The man placed the gun against his head and pulled the trigger. The gun screeched as it sent the bullet through the man's head. The blast painted the wall beside them a shining crimson color. It startled Daniel, causing him to flinch and jump backward out of his chair. The sight of the man draped across the table was a relief to Daniel. After realizing what he was thinking, he shook his head and scolded himself.

"This is so fucked…" he said to himself.

He walked around the table and looked for a way out of the destitute station. As he walked through the hallways and reached the train tracks, he stumbled upon a strange metal object. It looked like a large circle attached to a tri-pod stand, almost like a spotlight. He walked around it. Almost immediately, the pressure dissipated and his nausea faded. The grey creatures were gone as well. He looked at the back of the device. It had a couple of strange diagrams of green, red, and yellow shapes. There was a sort of legend describing something related to the machine that Daniel failed to understand. There was a collection of letters that read "ADD-SR" near the top. Underneath that, he found the words "Audio Deterrent Device – Short Range." He found a dial on the machine. On one end of the picture, the colored shape narrowed down to the word "off." It looked to Daniel like a slice of pizza that had been cut poorly. Daniel twisted the nob and the machine seemed to shut down. The machine puzzled him. He wondered what it was and what it was doing on the edge of the station. He came to the conclusion that it was something the Army had set up to keep the creatures from wandering into the tunnels. Daniel readied himself to head back to Grand Square. After a few moments of walking through the tunnel along the boarding platform, Daniel realized his nausea and the strange constricting pressure didn't return. Daniel looked back one more time at the machine. He walked through the darkness of the tunnel. He felt much safer as he walked further from the nightmarish station. He headed back home to Grand Square, happy to leave such a terrible place behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 11: Kid

Daniel sat in the seat of a railbike on its way to Grand station. It was stopped behind a line of other railcars. It seemed to Daniel that he was always stuck in traffic whenever he took the transit. He remembered sitting in a taxi cab next to his sister. His father would always sit in the front seat and chat with the driver. The taxi would inch along slowly as cars honked and sputtered along beside it. He remembered being just as bored as he was sitting on the railbike. Daniel listened to two men talking a short way ahead of him.

"Did you hear about what happened to 28th?" one man asked a railbike driver.

"No, what happened?" the driver asked in return.

"They got hit yesterday. Blackbeard said they went quiet all of the sudden."

"Bandits, maybe?"

"Some people over there said they saw that blue light coming from the south."

"You mean that ghost or whatever?"

"Yeah, it's gotten really close, hasn't it?"

"What, you think we're next?"

"God, I hope not. Whatever wiped out all those stations'd better not come here."

"What are you gonna do? Piss your pants and scare it away with the smell?"

"Come on, man! Aren't you at least a little freaked out?"

"Grand Square's got the Hunters and the Peacemakers. We'll be fine. Whatever monster comes knockin', they'll send 'em packin'."

A Peacemaker waved his arm to signal the railbikes to start moving again. Daniel reached the platform and got off the bike. He headed through the hallway. He passed by the corridor he normally went through to get home and up a set of stairs. He reached Grand station's residential area. The enormous hall could fit innumerable people at once. Hundreds of people passed through each and every day during their normal commute.

The ceiling was painted with a glamorous mural of the night sky. It was painted in an emerald-green color, with lines connecting the stars into constellations. Daniel knew what most had forgotten since the war: that the painting of the sky he was looking at was actually backwards. It was a not-too-well-kept secret from before the war. It seemed untouched, as if the war had never occurred at all. That fleeting moment of hope was soon obliterated when Daniel looked back down. He looked at the gigantic slabs of metal that covered each of the windows that had once let brilliant shafts of light through. The beautiful floor that had shone like the armor of a gallant knight was now dull and dirty.

Tents and wooden shacks sprawled throughout the hall. The only thing that stood out among them was The Jewel. Daniel knew what it had been in the past. He remembered passing through the hall as a boy and looking at the clock above the information booth. It was lit up and shimmered like the sun. It was like a ball of pure gold. Its very existence was a beautiful contrast to the grey of the city and the faces of people walking past it. However, just like everything else in the world, its beauty had been stolen from it by the war.

Daniel meandered through the alleyways between the houses. Although it was essentially just a place for the poor citizens of Grand Square to live, the people seemed just as happy as the rest of the residents. People sat together around lamps and talked. A group of kids huddled together in a circle and played a game with a ball. One family was even gathered together at a table for their daily meal.

A man called out to Daniel, "Hey you! You're a Stalker, right?"

Daniel stopped and nodded.

"Why don't you tell us a couple stories? My kids wanna know what it's like outside."

Daniel looked behind the man. Two children sat on a bench near a fire, their eyes wide with anticipation and wonder.

"Sorry, pal," Daniel said, "I'm on a job."

As Daniel walked away, he could hear the kids whine with disappointment. Daniel reached a rather large structure stretching further than any of the other homes. It was like a mansion among the shanties. He prepared to knock on the door. He heard voices coming from within and took a step aside. He waited patiently as a young man and a young woman burst through the door and argued.

"Dad said you couldn't go!" The woman shouted.

"I already told you, the King said I could!" the man shouted back.

Daniel knew he was referring to Ross, but always found it amusing when people called his friend a "king." He choked back a chuckle and continued listening.

"Dad said he wants you to be a driver like him. Don't you know how dangerous it is out there?"

"I know how boring it would be as a driver. I want to actually do something with myself; something exciting!"

Daniel decided he should interrupt their fight, "Don't let Stick hear you say that. He's proud of what he does. It's an important job."

Daniel's sudden intrusion startled the woman. She stepped back toward the door to her home. The man wasn't amused.

"That boring, old man just doesn't know what it's like to be a Stalker," he said.

"You really think so?"

"I know so!"

"That's funny… I remember when he found a huge stockpile of ammo on a boat in the bay."

"No way, that was the Prophet."

"I didn't say I wasn't there, but I wasn't the one who found it. You should ask him later."

The boy looked befuddled. His jaw dropped and he fumbled over his words.

"Y-you're really…?"

"Come on, Roy, that 'shocked fan' bit got old after the first hundred times."

Roy scratched the top of his head and put on an embarrassed face. Daniel turned to the woman.

"Diana, let your old man know I'm taking Roy for a bit."

"Dad said he can't go with you…"

"I'm sorry, but Ross told me to. Wouldn't want to upset him, right?"

She looked down at her feet. Daniel walked to her and crouched down so his eyes were level with hers. She peered through his mask and met his gaze.

"I'll make sure nothing happens to him, alright?"

Diana nodded once. Daniel patted her shoulder once and stood up straight. He gestured at Roy to follow him. They started to walk away, leaving Diana in front of her home. Roy turned around and gave her a quick and relaxed salute before hurrying to catch up with Daniel. Daniel could tell he was excited. The pair walked together to the armory in Square station.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 12: Orientation

Daniel stepped through the doorway into the armory. Sitting behind a counter was a man wiping the different parts of a disassembled gun with a rag. He was a younger-looking man; much longer than Daniel, but not quite as young as Roy. His uneven, brown hair nearly covered his eyes. The only thing covering his toned arms was dirt and hair. Daniel knew the man and knew that he'd never been anywhere outside of Grand Square. He was content to sit at a table and pick apart guns. Daniel breezed by the counter and toward the shooting range. Roy soon followed after him, catching the man's attention.

He put the piece of metal he was working on down and grumbled, "Hey, no kids in here."

"Relax, Moe," Daniel assured him, "He's with me."

"What are you, a babysitter now?"

"Something like that. He's a new Stalker."

Moe studied Roy closely. He narrowed his eyes and scowled.

"You won't last a week…"

His comment offended Roy.

"Hey, I've been on the surface before," he boasted, "I'll make it just fine."

Moe chuckled mordantly.

"The surface? Nah, I meant with this guy."

He nodded his head toward Daniel before continuing.

"That old windbag's worse than a tabby. Angrier too."

Daniel looked at Moe with an addled look.

"Old…?"

Moe smirked at him.

"So, Prophet, what do you need?"

Daniel recollected himself.

"I'll take a rifle, an AR, a revolver, and a Piece. Oh, and a walker too, if you have one."

Moe laughed. He stood up from his chair and walked into a room behind him. Daniel led Roy to the firing range. The center focus for the range was the large target on the wall. Lined up on shelves surrounding the target were pots, bottles, and children's toys. Daniel felt sorry for the adorable stuffed bear that stared at him from the shelf. A small wall made of bags filled with dirt stood level with Daniel's waist a short distance from the target. Moe shortly returned carrying a few weapons in his arms. He placed them, a couple of boxes of bullets, and a few cartridges on a nearby table. Roy sat in the chair at the table.

"Let me know if you need more ammo," Moe said before returning to his seat behind the counter.

Daniel picked up each weapon and inspected them. He looked down the sight of the rifle. He pulled the trigger a couple of times. He pulled the bolt on the rifle back and looked into the breech. He slid a magazine into position in the assault rifle and shook it. He pulled the trigger of the revolver a few times and peered down the sights. Roy watched him intently as he went through each motion.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

Daniel placed the revolver on the table.

"Alright, I guess it's time we start," Daniel said quietly to himself.

He picked up the rifle.

"We call these 'Lucky Seven,' 'The Seven Hundred,' or just 'Lucky.' It's a hunting rifle, so you usually don't see Stalkers using it."

"Does it give you luck or something?"

"No, it takes a lot of luck to actually hit anything with the thing."

He pointed at each of the pins that made up the sight.

"This is the sight. You want to make sure these things line up right, or you can't really shoot it straight. You could also just put a scope on it, if that's your thing."

He pointed to the barrel.

"This is where the bullets come out."

The pulled back the metal handle that hung down to the side of the rifle.

"This is the bolt. You pull it up and then back to open up the chamber and prime the firing pin. You put the bullets in, push it forward, and back down and you're good to go. Only thing is you gotta prime it every time you wanna shoot."

He pulled the trigger a few times.

"Always make sure the trigger isn't jammed or you won't live for very long. That goes for any gun."

"Do they jam a lot?"

"These guns are old and dirty, so there's no telling when they'll lock up on you. Unless you get your own gun and keep it clean."

"What do I do if it does jam on me?"

"Either smack it until works, or ditch it."

"Isn't that a waste of a good gun?"

"Stalkers barely ever use these things and Hunters all have their own."

Daniel placed the rifle on the table and picked up the assault rifle. It was the same model as his.

"This is more like something we use. The Carbine: it's quick, small, reliable, and packs a mean punch."

"Do Hunters use them too?"

"Nah, they have the Fifteen. It's bigger than this because they don't have to worry about tight spaces like we do."

"Why is that?"

"You remember your Peacemaker armor? Imagine that, but every bit is double the size and twice as thick. They march down the road like trucks and blast anything that moves; then they have a couple guys drag it home. Stalkers are usually in buildings or tunnels, so the shorter barrel keeps it from hitting the walls."

Daniel looked down the sights and pulled the trigger a few times.

"Sights and trigger; always remember to check every time."

He slid the magazine in and jiggled it.

"Always make sure the magazine is secure. If you're not sure if it is, give it a whack on the bottom."

Roy failed to hide his amused giggle. Daniel ignored him and continued. He pulled back the handle above the stock.

"Pulling this will open up the cover where the spent cases are ejected."

He flipped the cover back up and demonstrated again.

"If there's a loaded magazine in, it'll also chamber a bullet for you. If you've blown your whole magazine and you need to re-chamber again, all you gotta do is push this button on the side here. Howlers won't wait for you to pull the handle again."

Daniel placed the Carbine on the table and picked up the revolver.

"This one's pretty straight-forward."

He stopped short and turned to Roy.

"What's the first thing we always check?"

"Sights and trigger?"

"Good, you really are paying attention."

He pulled the trigger a few times. He popped the cylinder loose and dropped it back on the table.

"Not much to say about these things. You put a bullet in and it does all the hard work for you. Just don't expect to reliably shoot through anything harder than plywood."

He looked at the mess of a weapon that he had yet to talk about. It looked like a Carbine that had been stripped down to just the barrel, trigger, and handle. However, the barrel was fatter and there was a block of wood whittled into a hand guard attached to the bottom of it.

"We call it the Piece of Shit, or 'Poss.' It was made by the Engineer here in Grand Square. It heats up like the sun and shoots about as straight as Moe after a night of drinking."

Moe shouted from the storeroom, "I heard that!"

Daniel continued.

"It doesn't shoot like the other guns."

He pulled a rifle bullet from the box of ammo and showed it to Roy. He pointed to the tip.

"This is the actual bullet. This bit past the crease here is the case."

He pointed to the case.

"There's gunpowder in here. When the firing pin smacks the back of this, it sets off the gunpowder like an explosion. The bullet is shot out and the case is left behind."

He put the bullet down and picked up the Poss.

"This launches the whole damn thing out. Bullet, case… everything. Makes the projectile bigger and heavier, though, and I've seen it take out a tabby with one good hit in the head, so I guess it's pretty powerful."

"What about shotguns?" Roy asked.

"We can't use those at the range. Last time, someone was practicing on a bowling pin and ended up hitting himself in the head with the ricochet."

"What's a bowling pin?"

"That isn't important."

"So, what about that shotgun on the wall over there?"

Roy pointed to a weapon that was mounted on nails sticking out of the wall. It had one long barrel, with a rod sticking out of the bottom half-way to the trigger, a thin plate of metal that hung near the end of the barrel, and a long, wooden stock.

"That's a Spitter. It's another monster from the Engineer. It uses electricity to boil water and blasts it out. You gotta be real close to use it, though."

"Why would you want to waste the water like that?"

"They get it from the Hudson, so it's irradiated to shit anyway."

"Who is the Engineer and how does he come up with all these guns?"

"The way I heard it, he was an engineer before the war. Eventually people just started calling him the Engineer. Kind of how people call me the Prophet because I believe in God."

"Or how they call my old man Stick?"

Daniel nodded. Roy looked at the box of bullets.

"So, how come we shoot some bullets and use some as money?"

Daniel pulled each type of ammo from the box as he explained the value of each of them.

"Pistol bullets: they're probably the least valuable because of how easy they are to make and find and how little power they have behind them. Rifle bullets hit hard, but since rifles are so long and unwieldy, they aren't really used by anyone besides Hunters. Shotgun shells are everywhere, and I mean just everywhere. People before the war were paranoid and shotguns were actually legal for people to have, so they're practically the easiest to find."

"Legal? You mean people couldn't have guns?"

"There were a lot of restrictions so people weren't runnin' around blowing each other's heads off."

"How did they fight the monsters?"

"There' weren't monsters. There were animals like the dogs we have down here that people kept as pets. People even kept little tabbies. They were called cats back then."

"Little tabbies? So they were nice and lived with people before?"

"Oh, no, they were still dicks. The little shits loved to sit on top of the refrigerator and claw at people's heads when they walked by."

Roy laughed.

"There are a couple of other kinds of ammo, but they aren't really for guns. They're for the contraptions the Engineer made for the Hunters, so you probably don't need to know about them. The last important kinds of ammo are the assault rifle types. You've got the dirty hunks of metal we make in the subway and the shiny, pre-war military bullets we use for money."

"Is it because they're shiny?"

"Not exactly. They hit almost hard as a rifle shot, but they can be fired much more quickly and the guns aren't too big to actually hold."

"What about the dirty rounds?"

"They're better than pistol shots, so that's something. That, and when you use the military-grade stuff, you're literally shooting money that you can be using to buy more important things like food. Moe can give us some dirty bullets when we go on a job, but we have to pay for our own filters and gas masks, which are much more important in the long run."

"How come?"

"Because they're actually worth money."

"That's it?"

"That's it. They cost money because they're valuable. When you actually start heading up top, you'll come to realize just how valuable every second you get is."

Daniel decided to finish up his lecture. He remembered sitting through boring lessons as a kid and felt as though Roy was starting to feel the same way.

"Alright, I want to see you shoot."

Daniel showed Roy how to load a Carbine magazine. After they had loaded a few bullets into a couple of cartridges, they set up to fire down range. Daniel loaded the gun and fired a few rounds. He shot the center of the target, a few bottles, and the teddy bear. He unloaded the weapon and handed it to Roy. Roy slid the magazine into the slot and smacked it to make sure it was seated properly. He then lifted is finger up to the magazine release and pushed the button in, causing the cartridge to fall to the ground. Daniel heard Moe laughing behind him and couldn't help but let out a chuckle himself. Roy laughed sheepishly and scratched his head. Daniel reminded him where the bolt catch was and watched him as he accurately blasted bottles away.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 13: Pandemonium

"Hey, Moe," Daniel called behind him as he walked out of the armory, "make sure he doesn't hurt himself, alright?"

Moe waved at him then returned to cleaning a gun. Daniel closed the door behind him and strolled toward the transit platform. Daniel noticed the halls were abnormally empty, with only a handful of people walking around. Daniel reached the platform. He paid the driver and climbed into the seat. He sat on his helmet. He pushed his back against the seat and moved the helmet before sinking back into his seat. The driver started up the motor and began driving into the tunnel.

"So, what are you doin' out and about, man?" the driver asked Daniel with a friendly voice.

"Just got off a job," Daniel answered, "I'm ready for bed."

"You a Stalker or somethin'?"

Daniel nodded.

"My brother's a Peacemaker. Told me to stay inside 'cause of that thing comin' up from the south, but I needed the ammo, so I didn't listen to 'im."

He laughed aloud.

"You get a lot of customers?"

"Nah, a lot of people got scared and stayed home."

Daniel noticed a light coming from behind them. It didn't look like a flashlight to him. It was blue and abnormally bright. He twisted in his seat and looked behind him. He was nearly blinded by what he saw. A dazzling blue and white ball of light was slowly floating through the air toward him.

"What the…" Daniel whispered, befuddled and awe-struck.

The driver turned to look and had the same reaction. Daniel couldn't tear his gaze from the anomaly. It was beautiful and glided through the air as if disconnected from the world around it. He could feel a strange steady pulsing feeling, almost like a heartbeat. It suddenly released a bolt of light from the center and made a sound like a circuit breaker exploding. The noise and the fire it caused broke Daniel out of his trance. Something in his mind told him to get away from the thing. He felt as though he were in danger. He grabbed the handle of the railbike and twisted it toward him. He was thrown back as the railbike picked up speed. As he and the driver got further away from the ball, the sounds of panicked screaming grew louder. He heard gunshots behind him as the railbike tore through the tunnel. They reached Grand station and couldn't stop quickly enough to avoid slamming into the empty railbike on the tracks. He and the driver were whipped forward, causing the driver's face to slam against the handle bars. He moaned in pain and held his nose. Daniel could hear the engine of a railbike behind him. He thought that someone may have had the same idea as him. He pushed the driver over onto the island platform and dove from his seat to the platform on the opposite side of the tracks. Mere moments later, another railbike smashed into the back of the one he was just in, crumpling it up like a piece of paper.

"What the hell is going on back there?" one of the laborers shouted.

Daniel stood up and climbed over the wreckage of his ride. He picked the driver up off the ground and dragged him back to the other side.

"Run," Daniel said with a pained growl.

No one responded. They simply stood around him and murmured to each other. Daniel could see the blue light crawling toward them on the wall of the tunnel. The driver noticed it too and dashed through the crowd. A man came sprinting out of the tunnel. Daniel could see the look of terror on his face. A streak of lightning and the sound of thunder cut through his body. He stood for a moment before dropping to the ground like a bag of sand.

"_Run_!" Daniel yelled.

People started screaming and pushed through the hallways. Daniel tried his best to move along with the crowd, but had difficulty keeping his footing as people shoved by him. He could feel the pulsing sensation from before. He knew it was drawing closer. He grabbed the arm of a woman who was pulling her young daughter through the crowd and dragged them into a small cove in the wall.

He pushed the woman against the wall and whispered, "Don't move and don't make a sound, alright?"

She quickly nodded. Her daughter looked up at them with fearful eyes. Daniel pressed his back against the other wall and turned his head to the hallway. It was empty; the mob had already moved deeper into the station. Daniel watched as the blue glow spread across the floor. The three of them didn't make a single sound. The woman had placed her hand over her daughter's mouth and was holding onto her tightly. It came into view for just an instant. It had no discernable body parts or features. It looked to Daniel like a giant light bulb hovering above the ground. The center was a bright white color, but the light emanating from it was a light blue color. It reminded Daniel of the sky he loved to look at as a boy. He remembered how excited he would get to see a plane flying through the air and how badly he wanted to be inside of it. He could see the splintering fingers of what he thought was lightning orbiting the center of the light. The lines of purple and blue energy swirled around it like knives caught in a tornado. Just as quickly as it had appeared, the light was gone again. It slowly crept toward the mess hall. It seemed to be following the crowd of people. He realized what it was.

"It follows the rats…" he whispered to himself.

He turned to the woman.

He spoke softly and sternly, "Get back to your home. Stay away from anything electric. If you see it coming, find a place to hide and don't move an inch until it goes away."

The woman nodded.

"You'll be alright. Just be careful."

Daniel left the woman and her child and headed in the direction the creature went. He couldn't hear any screaming anymore. It was as if the station had been completely deserted. Daniel heard the sound of metal banging against metal and shouting. He crept toward it. Two men were banging on a door and trying to get in.

"Come on, dude," one of them shouted, "Open it!"

"I can't," the other replied, "I dropped the key!"

Daniel felt the abnormal pressure again. Their struggling seemed to attract the monster. The glinting blue light crept toward them. Daniel drew his pistol and quickly rushed to them. He pushed them aside and blasted the iron lock, shattering it. He yanked it from the door and pushed it open. He shoved the two men into the room and slammed the door behind them. The room was pitch-black, save for the dim, blue glow that seeped in underneath the door. None of them made a sound until it had disappeared completely.

"Don't leave this room until someone tells you it's safe," Daniel ordered

He cracked open the door and peeked outside. The hallway was empty once again. He stepped outside of the room.

"Thanks, man," one of the men said before quietly closing the door behind him.

Daniel moved through the mess hall. He could see the bodies of unfortunate people that were caught on the floor. He moved through the hallway to his home. He saw a group of Peacemakers behind a barricade.

"Hey, you!" one shouted, "What the hell are you doing out here?"

Daniel quickly ran to them.

"We need to shut down the generators," Daniel said quickly, "That thing is drawn to electricity. Maybe we can get it to leave if we shut them down."

The Peacemaker nodded.

"No one else has a better plan… Alright, let's get over there."

Daniel could see the light approaching once again. He pointed to a dark hallway.

"Get to the Jewel and use the stairs in the information booth. I'll draw it away from you guys."

The Peacemakers dashed into the hallway and disappeared from sight. Daniel could see the mysterious beast again. He twisted his pistol's silencer off and dropped it into his pocket. He pointed his pistol at the monster and started firing.

"Come and get me, you fuck!" he shouted before turning around and sprinting down the hallway.

He watched the blue glow cover the walls and floor in front of him. Before he knew it, the light had engulfed him. He felt a sharp pain shoot into his back, causing him to momentarily lose consciousness. He opened his eyes and watched the alien creature slowly float away toward the mess hall. He tried to stand up, but his legs felt weak. He curled over his knees and tried to regain his senses. He eventually gathered the strength to stand and pulled himself up. His vision was blurred and the world seemed to spin around him. He lost his balance and stumbled, catching himself on the concrete wall. His thoughts were scrambled and incomprehensible. The only thing he managed to catch clearly reminded him that his home was nearby. He slowly shuffled along the wall. His body knew the way, though the hallway looked unfamiliar to him. He couldn't hear his own footsteps. All he could hear was a loud monotone ringing. He stumbled into his room and slammed the door behind him. He slid his back down the door. He suddenly felt winded. He leaned against the door and tried to catch his breath. He sat on the floor in the dim white glow of the lamp on his desk.


End file.
